A Few Good Men
by Apple-chan
Summary: Weiss has new enemies...and Schwarz is back...this time, there are five of them...
1. Chapter 1 Them

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_ **A Few Good Men**_

Hi! Apple-chan here.^_^ I've been here at ff.net long, but this is the first time (or the second, rather) that I'm posting my fic here. I don't know what made me decide to do this. I guess I just want to share this with more people. I've written this chapter like some two years ago, and it's been up in my site that long as well. But I know not everyone checks fansites too often, so not a lot of people might have had the chance to read this. So I'm putting this up for everyone else who haven't read this.

Enough rambling. I just wanted to say that this fanfic is mainly about Weiß, and Schwarz, and some new characters (as you will notice). The narrator for the first part is a new character. Please don't hate me for creating her--I had to or else I wouldn't be able to sleep. There are I think, two other new characters, but for the time being this first character is the only one with a leading role. I'm still not sure how this is going to end up. The rest of the story will be made-up, well, except for those that happened in the series. I did change some of the events, so please excuse the inconsistencies--that's my own doing. Or sometimes, it may be some event I overlooked. Whatever it may be, C&C's are always welcome. And btw, I'm still looking for a title(Coz the title I have here is tentative). 

I think I need to do this, so, here goes:  
Author: Apple-chan  
Email: nurikoryen@yahoo.com  
Title: A Few Good Men (tentative)  
Type: Drama/Angst/a bit of action(?) etc  
Disclaimer: insert witty disclaimer remark here  
Rating: PG-13?  
Spoilers:I'm not sure so I'm putting: DPs,TV Episodes 1-25, OAV, etc.   
Warnings: Strong Language, angst  
Keywords: Weiß, Schwarz, Schwarz, Weiß  
Archive: My site, ff.net, and...um, if you want, you can just ask me.=)

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**Part One: Remember**

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Chapter 1-Them

It had been ten long years since the last time I saw this place. Nothing's changed.

Nothing at all.

The walls of the building still remained. The last time I saw it, ten years ago, It had the same skeleton framework that it does now.

On the front, was a fountain. At the foot of the fountain, was the carved sign, "Japanese National Police." At either side of the fountain, were carved marble benches.

A garden surrounds the sides of the building.

A beautiful sight. Yet how ironic it was that there is bitterness here as well as beauty. At least, for me.

But why am I standing here in front of the main building of the police, anyway?

I cannot answer that, because I myself do not know why I'm here. I guess something drew me.

I don't know what it was that drew me, but it did.

The weirdest thing? This is the last place I'd ever go to, because every time I remember this place, I always feel this terrible pain shooting through my heart.

The bitter, horrible pain of loss.

I had a lot of losses.

I was eight years old when I had my first two losses. My parents. My Mother and Father—they died here, in this place. Behind the walls of that building that stands in front of me, was where I saw them die. Beneath a soundproof glass where I couldn't even hear their pain. But I could see them clearly. And their eyes…their eyes were constantly talking to me, pleading me to listen, but no—I didn't want to hear any of it, didn't want to hear them dying. But those eyes…

__

Please, honey. We need you to listen beneath the glass. Please…

No, no, I didn't want to hear any of it. But my mother's eyes held my gaze. And then I couldn't look away.

__

Take care of your brothers. Be strong for them. You'll survive this, I know you will.

And then, there was my father.

__

You have to be strong, honey. For us. For yourself. For them. You -have- to survive. We're not going to die. We –will- live as long as –you- are alive. But if even one of you dies…then we'll die.

So I had to survive, for the sake of my parents, my brothers, and for myself.

__

Goodbye, honey.

My mother's farewell. I looked away.

And then, there was them. My brothers.

I watched them right after my mother and father bid me goodbye. Then the last, killing drop of the lethal injection was plunged into their veins.

Then, there was death.

I watched them. My two younger brothers. 

One of them was crying, the youngest one. Three years old then. Barely aware of anything then, yet knowing only one thing—his parents were dead, and he had no one. His little hand searched for something to cling to. Something, anything…a small flicker of hope that he wasn't alone…his hand found my other brother's hand. Helplessly, he clung to it, seeking comfort, reassurance—an ease for the pain he felt. A small shelter.

The other hand was cold, hard. Practically lifeless then. Clinging to it was like clinging to nothingness. My youngest brother felt that, and he cried. He cried and cried. His whimpers of pain reverberated throughout the walls of the room where we all stood, watching our parents die.

And there was him. My brother, the one that came after me. Seven years old then. He wasn't crying. His eyes just held a blank, expressionless look. His hands and his whole body were hard, cold. He was physically there, but not there. He just stood there, almost lifeless, like a corpse. His face didn't hold any kind of expression.

Or perhaps it held all the expressions combined that it almost seemed like there was no expression there at all.

The other people around us were wondering what was wrong with him, for they normally would expect a child to cry when he sees his parents die.

Normally.

There was a loud thunderstorm outside on that same day. Rain fell as if it would never stop falling. It fell in huge, forceful cascades, like blood flow after a murder. Thunder and lightning struck the sky every so often. Many trees and lots of houses were wrecked on that day, because the lightning struck them so forcefully, as if in anger.

My brother's anger.

And then, there was me. I stood as far away from both of my brothers as it was possible for me. I isolated myself from the other people in that place. I was too scared to go even near my brothers, because I didn't want them relying on me.

My parents placed the responsibility of taking care of my brothers to me, but I didn't want that. I didn't want any responsibility. I didn't want anybody depending on me because I had always been used to depending on someone. But I had to, now that my parents were dead.

It was funny, but I never saw my parents die. Just before they closed their eyes, I looked away. I didn't want to see death. Since that day, I vowed to myself that I would never ever allow anyone to die right in front of me. I would never ever look at anyone dying, not even if it was a member of my family.

I hated death then. I hated it now.

Probably as much as I hate this place—THIS place where I was. The place standing right in front of me.

It's funny how I came to be here now when I never once came here for ten long years since my parents died. Because every time I even tried to think of anything remotely connected to what happened on that day, memories flash before my very eyes…and I didn't like those memories, for they were filled with sadness, anger, bitterness,…and death. Death. Those two fateful deaths. Deaths that I never saw.

I hastily wiped away the tears in my eyes…and found that there were no tears there. I knew I should be crying, but it felt like I had no more tears left to shed.

It was so long ago, that time when I cried last.

After death, separation came next. Social welfare came and took away all our possessions, even our house. Then they gave the three of us away to new families whom they thought were better families for us.

One separate family for each one of us.

My youngest brother was the first one to be adopted. He was taken into a small home outside of Tokyo. A year later, I found out that he ran away.

He was never found.

My brother that came before me was adopted next, by a couple with two grown up sons. A year later, I found out that the house where he lived had burn to the ground—and with it, the family.

But my brother was nowhere to be found.

I was the last to be adopted. The one who adopted me looked like he was nice. He had a younger brother who looked nice too. And so that's how it was for several months. They gave me everything I want, long enough to gain my trust, until one day, everything changed.

I should say one night. That was the last time I ever cried, that night. 

The older brother, the one who adopted me, came upon me first. Raped me. I was eight and a half then. After him, came his younger brother. Raped me also. And I tried hard, so hard, to make them stop.

But they didn't.

And I couldn't do anything but cry. I cried until I felt there were no more tears left. When I felt that my eyes were empty, that's when they stopped. And along with the end of my tears, was the end of my innocence.

The brothers ran a prostitution club that sold children off for a fair amount of money, and social welfare didn't bother to check whether they were legal or not. But as they sold me off to different men, I knew this was no cause for me to break down. I had to survive, because I had to find my brothers. I had to reunite my family.

And there was another thing I was living for. Revenge. I had to avenge my parents' death. So I couldn't die yet, even as many people repeatedly abused me.

One day, before I even turned nine, I found I couldn't take it anymore. I left.

Then, about a week later, I found out on a news report on TV that the brothers—the one who adopted me, and his younger brother were dead. Their bodies were found in the apartment where we lived a week after I left. It was said that they were strangled and stabbed to death. Surprisingly, no fingerprints except their own were found.

I killed them.

But just before they drew their last breath, I fled.

After that, I became a street dweller. I usually slept at the back alley of this mall. It was dark and dirty, but I lived. Then, when it was necessary, I sold my body of to anyone who wanted it. I had to do that in order to survive. I couldn't die yet. Not when I haven't found my brothers, and not when I haven't avenged my parents. Not then. Not now.

Half a year after I killed those brothers who adopted me, I had an American man for a customer. He had been nineteen then, with dark hair and eyes. To this day, I remember his face as the face of salvation.

He didn't come to the alley to fulfill his sexual desires. He worked, for he was always dressed in a suit. But I desperately needed money. I persuaded him to take me to bed. I was nine. He was nineteen.

"I don't do sex with kids." He said then.

"Come on. I really need the money. Just this once." I pleaded.

"How much?"

"How much have you got?"

He told me and I accepted.

Then he took me to a small apartment, and that's where I was used, for the last time.

He told me I was very good.

I didn't answer him.

"You're a beautiful child." He said.

I still didn't answer him. I dressed up, took his money, and got ready to leave.

"Do you have a place to go? A house?"

I turned away but shook my head to answer his question.

"Would you like to come with me?"

I turned around to face him. I had thought he was joking, but his face held the expression of a man who never lies.

And then, I don't know why, after my first experience with men, I suddenly felt like I trusted this man, but I did. I trusted him.

"Would you like to come with me?" He repeated.

I nodded slowly.

A smile broke upon his face. To this day, I remember that smile as the smile of salvation.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Salvation had a name, and his name was Brad Crawford. He took me to a big, stately mansion on the ritzy side of Tokyo. We rode on his car to get there.

He let me in, and as I gazed at all the glory around me, he called some servants over and talked to them. Then he led me to a room on the second floor where the servants waited for me. They then bathed me, cleaned me and gave me new clothes. Afterwards, he took me to a room on the south wing of the fourth floor. He knocked and the room swung open.

There were three old people inside the room. An old woman wearing a fancy hat was surveying me with narrowed eyes. There were two old men, and the one with the beard and baldhead surveyed me thoughtfully. The other man, who had a cane in his hand, looked at my savior suspiciously.

"A stray?" The old woman said, addressing my savior.

A nod. "Found her on the back alley of the mall."

"And what do you suggest we do with her?" The old woman said harshly, scrutinizing me from head to toe, before she settled her gaze to my eyes. I stared back at her. Funny, but I wasn't afraid of her when it seemed obvious that I should be.

My savior smiled at me and squeezed my shoulders reassuringly. "She was selling off her body when I found her."

"Oh?" The man with the cane raised his brows.

For a moment, I was alarmed that this might be another prostitution house. But then, my savior as if reading my mind, gave me a reassuring smile and I relaxed.

"Her eyes show depth. She's had a lot of pain."

"Is she weak?" The bearded and baldheaded man narrowed his eyes.

"On the contrary." My savior shook his head. "No one can survive in that back alley too long. No one weak. I've been watching her since she came there, and she's anything but weak. One might even call her fearless."

"I can see that. No one has ever looked at me squarely in the eye as she did just now." A hint of amusement laced the old woman's tone. "Alright, Crawford. She may stay. You will take care of her. See that she gets everything she needs." Then she turned to me. "From this day on, you shall stay here. You may do everything you may wish, provided you do as we say."

I nodded. "Thank you." I murmured, giving a bow.

She then dismissed us, and as my savior led me to a room in the second floor that was to be my bedroom, I realized she never asked my name.

But I was thankful, nevertheless.

As I entered the room that was to be my bedroom form then on, my savior smiled at me. "I hope you will be happy here, Naoe Futora," he said as he closed the door.

Funny, I had thought then as I sat on the bed that was now mine, he knew my name yet I never once told him what it was.

Though puzzled as I was, I was nevertheless thankful.

*~*~*~*~*~*

I was twelve years old when a big surprise came into my life. It was three years since I started living in the stately mansion of the SZ.

Those three old people, that's who they were. The SZ. I couldn't have called them by any other name, for I didn't know what their names were, and I never dared ask. Strangely enough, I found out that no one ever stayed in the mansion for very long. The three old people traveled around, and whenever they came back, they never stayed here in their Tokyo mansion for very long. Most of the time they spent here was spent in their secluded rest house way up in Mt. Fuji.

I've never seen that place.

As for Crawford, he never stayed in the mansion very long either. Most of the time he has he spent with his boss. His boss was some big shot politician named Takatori Reiji. All morning, he was always there, working in his boss' office. Probably signing papers for the man. But still, he always made sure to drop by my room when he gets home, every single night. Then, we would talk. We did that so often that I was able to tell him my whole life story. He made it a point to listen to me every time I tell him something. Likewise, I listened whenever he told me things about him, for I was always barely able to get anything out of him. In those rare times when he talked, I made it my responsibility to catch every word he says. And that was how I found out of his extraordinary power.

He could tell the future. He could foresee the things that were to happen. Likewise, he could also tell the past. He was an oracle.

I found that out one night, when I was eleven and he was twenty-one. We were outside, on the terrace in my room. The wind was blowing gently, sending leaves flying from the trees towards us.

But it was no ordinary wind. I was waving my hand.

"Those men…" He began.

I snapped my head up. "What?"

"Those men who…" a pause. "You killed them." A statement, not a question.

He knew, and I never told him I killed them.

"Yes. Yes I did." I answered, looking up at the sky. "They didn't find any of my fingerprints anywhere, but I did kill them."

"You killed them, " he continued, "with the aid of telekinesis." A statement, not a question.

I never once told him I was telekinetic.

I stopped waving my hand. The wind stopped blowing. I looked at him. "Yes." Then, I added, "how do you know these things? I never told you about them."

He didn't answer, but he gave me a small smile. "Ironic, isn't it? How black can be so beautiful yet so sad?"

"Crawford—" I began.

"Call me Brad, " he interrupted. "Just as you can do things, so can I. Telling the future is the gift I have. And I acquired this gift for the price of something else far more precious." A pause. "Just as you have." He then held out his hand to touch my hair. "Black. Your hair. The color of the night." He gazed at me. "Beautiful and sad, like you, Futora. But one of these days you won't have to be sad anymore. One year from now, something will happen that will make you very happy. Then you can smile with your eyes, and not just your lips." He smiled at me reassuringly.

I returned his smile—my smile that doesn't reach my eyes. 

Will I ever smile with my eyes again? Will I ever be happy again? I was doubtful. 

Yet, doubtful as I was, I was still hopeful.

*~*~*~*~*~*

And so, what he said would happen on a day when I was already twelve years old, happened. On that day, it was exactly one year after Crawford asked me to call him Brad, and exactly one year after a weird looking Irish kid joined me on the mansion of the SZ. He became one of Brad's assistants. He had another assistant, and it was about a year and a half after he joined on that day. He was an orange-haired German with green eyes and he was about five years older than me. His name was Schrudich. The Irish kid was about two years older than me, and his name was Farfello.

I was outside that day, partly so I could enjoy the sunshine and partly so that I could avoid Schrudich's merciless teasing. Unlike Brad who was always on Mr. Takatori's side, Schrudich often stayed in the mansion and he was always bored. What fairly large amount of time he spent in the mansion, he spent to tease me.

And today was no exception.

The SZ mansion had a beautiful garden with lots of trees and brightly-colored flowers. You can practically call it a meadow, for it was so huge. I was sitting on what most people would call a gazebo and watching the rustle of the leaves in the trees. And no—the rustle of the leaves in the trees wasn't controlled by me. This time, it was a natural occurrence.

I watched as a little yellow bird flew and then perched at the branch of a birch tree. It then burst into song and then once again flew. To my greatest surprise, it went straight towards me. I held out my hand and it landed on top of it.

I gazed at the little bird in wonder. _Wish I could be like you_. It burst into a sweetly sad melody. _Wish I could fly._

A rustle. Then, the little bird flew away, as if it heard something.

Sure enough.

__

Talking to animals again? A voice spoke directly inside my head.

__

Schrudich. I kept my gaze to direction where my little bird friend flew. I have been talking to little animals even when I was little, and Schrudich was usually the one who always sees me doing that.

__

You had better stop that, you know. You might end up like Farfello. He went over and sat beside me in the gazebo.

__

At least he's happy. If I had led a life like he had, I would've want to escape reality, fast as I could. I'm worse than he is.

Whatever you say, Sugar.

Where is he?

Playing with his knives.

Oh.

And me—I'm here, obviously. Think you could get away that easily?

I expected you would follow me.

Did you, now?

I'm not really used to blocking of my thoughts, you know. We've only known each other for a year and a half.

Yes, you are. He countered._ You can block me off well. Remember that time? I'm just too darn good in digging out people's feelings._

"Especially yours. " This time, he spoke, giving me a teasing grin.

__

Whatever you say, Sugar. I gave him a small smile.

His grin faded, and then he sighed. _I told you never to smile at me, Sugar. You're breaking my heart._

He always said that. For the length of time we knew each other, he always, always said that every time I smile at him.

It used to be, for about two years, only Brad and I. I used to have only Brad to turn to. He was my guardian—an older brother I never had. He made sure I had everything I needed, and it was wonderful having someone like that around. He was always ready to listen as I told him things about me, and that was better than anything could have been. He even knew things—things even I don't know about myself.

And I don't know if that was better, but I'd like to think it was.

But then, Brad wasn't really around that often. Most of the time, I was still alone.

Until Schrudich came.

With him, I was, as people used to say, "an open book." That was for figurative description, but for Schrudich, it was literal. At least, to me. Just like Brad, he knew things, things that I told him, things of my past.

But unlike Brad, he knew other things, such as things I thought about in the present. Brad could only tell what had happened to me in the past and what would happen in the future. But Schrudich, it seems like he could read me—my moods, my feelings, my thoughts. 

He was telepathic, as Brad was an oracle. He can do things Brad couldn't, as Brad could do things he couldn't. In that sense, they were equal, but he was around more often. And in that sense, he was better than Brad. 

Or worse. I'm not sure where I would put it. But having him around was something for me to be thankful for. 

But his being telepathic—I don't know what to say to that.

I found out that he was indeed telepathic one day—on the first day that he came to the SZ mansion. Here.

My only other pastime, aside from talking to animals and watching the sunshine, was cleaning out the whole living room. There was a lot to clean up and dust there—there was a lot of ceramic figurines, vases, antique carved tables, and paintings all over the room. I dusted and rearranged them all, everyday. This gave the servants less to do; though I'm not sure if it's with anger, hatred, gratitude or fear they look me with every time they pass me by as I was dusting. In my opinion, it was with fear, for who wouldn't be afraid to see vases, paintings and figurines floating around while a feather duster was cleaning the tables?

Schrudich wasn't afraid, for that was how he saw me the first time—surrounded by floating vases and figurines.

I didn't notice him at first, for I was staring intently at the fancy carved table by the winding staircase. I rearranged the small figurines around the table. Then I raised up the large flower vase that was in the center. It was a very heavy vase. Even though I wasn't carrying it manually, I felt how heavy it was. My body was practically straining from the effort of keeping it afloat.

All the while, I was thinking how expensive everything must be in the whole mansion. I wonder how much my bedroom costs? Then, briefly, I wondered where the SZ gets all the money to buy all these things. And then I started thinking, why the heck do they buy them? What's the use of having all the fancy stuff here when they never stay too long in the mansion anyway?

__

Maybe they just like fancy things, don't you think? A voice spoke directly in my head. I was so startled that the vase I was floating in midair nearly dropped to the ground. Fortunately, I was able to halt its early demise in the nick of time. I looked around, nervously, wondering where the heck that voice inside my head came from.

And that's when I saw him. Standing in the hallway, leaning on the pillar near the door, was an orange- haired kid, about five years older than me, with his arms folded across his chest, his lips upturned in a smirk.

I hailed the vase down on top of the table gently. _It's a good thing I caught it in the nick of time, or else I would've…_

No. No, you wouldn't have. Again, that same voice spoke in my head. I don't know why I turned to him, the orange-haired kid, but I did. Probably because he was the only other person in the room then.

__

Who the heck is that? I thought, surveying him with interest and suspicion.

__

Oh, are you talking about me? Again, that voice.

The orange-haired kid gave a sly grin. _Schrudich. That's my name._ He pointed to himself.

That was how I figured out where the voice that keeps speaking in my head was coming from. _How do you do that?_ I asked, still not speaking, but thinking.

__

Do what?

Read my mind. I moved to the glass-paneled cabinets and started rearranging the China.

__

Oh, like this…? Well…how do –you- do that? He directed my question back to me. I was floating the plates while the feather duster moved and swept the dust away.

__

I guess I was born with this gift. Crawford calls it telekinesis.

Well, likewise then. But me—I'm what you call a…

Mind reader?

A more specific term would be "telepathic".

Oh. I gently put everything back in place when I finished. Then, I went to the bathroom sink to wash my hands. After that, I found him on the living room, examining the paintings on the walls.

"The SZ seems to love landscapes, " I murmured. "That's the usual theme of many of the paintings in this place."

He turned around and gave me a grin. _So that's how your voice sounds like. Beautiful, like the owner._ There was a teasing hint to his remark.

I looked away, feeling my cheeks burning, for this was the first time a boy has ever told me something like that. Crawford didn't count, for he was like a brother to me.

But him…

I walked towards one of the paintings, one with the sea and sky painted on the canvas. _It's really weird, though. All these beautiful things, and no one's here much too long to appreciate them. _

What about you? Don't you count? And Crawford? He was observing me thoughtfully.

__

I guess you're right. I gave him a small smile and ran my hand along the painting. _I love this one, a painting of the sea._ Then I realized that he's been looking at me far too long. I looked at him and narrowed my eyes. _What?_

He shook his head. _Something about you is strange._

Oh? I shrugged my shoulders. He had some nerve, calling me strange, when he was the one who's been reading my thoughts ever since he came in…

__

I know, I know. Sorry. I'm strange too. But I didn't mean strange as in strange. I meant…well…you have this certain aura around you… He shook his head._ I can't describe it. _He sat down on the sofa and looked outside._ You been here long?_

About a year and a half. I continued gazing up at the paintings.

__

How'd you get here?

Crawford. He came to get me. We met at this back alley. I was offering him my…I stopped, for I didn't think I'd want anyone else to know about that day.

__

What? His eyes widened.

__

No…nothing. Then, suddenly, I felt my head start to spin. _Nothing…!!!!_

What the heck was that?

I didn't know. I kept thinking of what happened that day when Crawford rescued me, but at the same time, I was trying to hide what I thought to Schrudich. And at the same time, some driving force was trying to uncover my thoughts.

Schrudich stood up and caught me as I started to fall. Then, as he spoke in my head next, I knew what had happened. _I'm really sorry. I've never had anyone block me that easily before, apart from Crawford._

You were trying to dig out my thoughts? I straightened up and stared at him incredulously.

__

Won't happen again. Sorry.

Okay. I smiled. He went back to the sofa as I stared back up at the paintings.

We were silent for a couple of minutes.

"What's your name?" A soft drawl reached my ear. _Don't ever smile at me again, Sugar. It makes my heart break to see a smile that doesn't reach the eyes. Especially for someone as beautiful as you._ He grinned at me then. This time, it was sincere.

"Futora. Naoe Futora." I smiled again despite his thoughts. _So you do have a voice after all._

So you noticed.

Yes.

*~*~*~*~*~*

__

So what –are- you doing here? Schrudich prodded.

__

Nothing. Just looking at the sun. I gazed up at the sun to affirm my words.

__

Crawford said he'd be home early.

Really? I looked down and gazed at my feet. Then, my gaze turned to his feet, and I wondered what size his shoes were.

__

Twelve, Sugar. He says he's bringing someone here.

Someone? Another assistant? Aren't you and Farfello enough?

He shrugged._ Apparently not. Farfello isn't really much help to him, you know. He only stays here and fools around with his knives all day long._

Well, so do you. You stay here all day and make my life miserable.

He shook his head, grinning slightly. _Oh, Sugar, you know I only like to tease you because you never cease to make me smile. _

You never liked seeing me smile.

That's different. Anyway, as for Farfello…he's a little insane.

He is not! Not really. I countered. He just needs understanding, that's all.

How do you know? He gave me a suspicious look.

__

I've…talked to him.

*~*~*~*~*~*

That was true. About a week before my twelfth birthday, I was walking along the corridors of the third floor, thinking all the while, about a lot of things.

Briefly, I tried remembering if any of us four, meaning, Schrudich, Brad, Farfello and I, slept in the third floor. I knew Brad's room was on the second floor, right across from mine, and Schrudich's was beside that; and Farfello's…well, I guess I didn't actually know where he slept…I then decided it doesn't really matter, since I don't have any intention of talking to him. He was the strangest one of all the people I lived with.

I shook my head and told myself to stop thinking of that, since it wasn't really that important. 

Then abruptly, I recalled an instance, back when I was in what used to be our old house, when everything was still okay and everyone had been alive. My brother that came before me and I were the only ones home, along with the servants, because our mother was in the hospital with our father; our littlest brother was about to be born. I was four; my brother was three. We were exploring the third floor of our house when we came upon this strange looking room that neither of us has seen before. When we opened it, a huge, scary face peeked out and pounced on us…

If we hadn't ran away at that time, I wonder if we'd still be alive right now…?

I shuddered at the thought of that monster that scared us, a long time ago. It had been really scary then.

But now, it was just sad.

Sad because I didn't have my parents with me, and sad because my brothers...I wonder if I'd ever see them again. I wonder, what had happened to them? I had hope that they were still alive, but what has become of them? Four years was not enough for me to forget them, and I still thought about them quite constantly. This was one of those times. Then, briefly, I wondered if somewhere, someday, somehow—I'd ever see them again.

Then, just like everything else in my life, my thoughts took a strange turn. I thought about Crawford, or Brad, as he had asked me to call him. Brad, who still came by my room, never missing a single night to check up on me and talk to me before I went to sleep. Briefly, I wondered why such a man like him would care for me the way he does, when all the men who came into my life after my dad died only wanted to abuse me.

Then, I start thinking, he was one of the rare ones. He was my savior, and I would always think of him that way.

Always.

My thoughts then took a turn to the orange-haired young man, who constantly teased me, and usually ends up making me faint because of his extreme desire to dig up all my thoughts. I know he doesn't mean any harm when he does that—I know he cares for me, that's why he does that.

Then he would always say he wouldn't try anymore to get my thoughts out of me if I don't want to, but somehow, it usually ends up that way.

And somehow, I forgave him.

And then, he would tell me never to smile at him because it breaks his heart to see me smile. But he was the only one I knew who really makes me want to smile, even if I couldn't. Not completely.

And so, I smile.

Then without knowing, all my walking caused me to stop abruptly as I reached a strange-looking room.

Farfello's room.

So this was his room. The one on the very end of the south wing, on the third floor—a black, dreary, creepy sort of area. Then I thought, it may seem only natural for him to choose this room. Or not.

I don't know. But the strangest thing is, despite the growing chill in my blood, there has to be a reason why I am here. _There is always a reason._

I peeked inside…and then I saw him, polishing a long, sharp knife. Farfello.

Of all the people living here, he was the one I least thought about. Or as much as possible, I tried never to think of him, for fear that my thoughts might suddenly conjure him up right in front of me, and then he would kill me. Or not.

Brad and Schrudich had told me what happened with him long ago. But as much as I felt some compassion for him, I was still afraid of him. Why? Well, the killing part was one. The other? He was just so incredibly strange. Okay, okay, we were –all- strange, but he was probably the strangest of all.

But afraid as I was, something told me to come forward and face him—my fears. Deep down, I knew I shouldn't really fear him because he was as human as I was. In a way, we were alike—we suffered a lot in our childhood. And besides, he was the one closest to my age in this place, being only two years my senior.

I took a deep breath.

Then I knocked. The door was slightly ajar. I opened it a little bit more and let myself in. I gazed at him warily, and he was looking at me suspiciously with that one topaz eye he had left.

"Can I…sit down?" I asked nervously. He threw me another suspicious gaze, but then he nodded. I sat down on the opposite side to where he was on the bed.

Silently, I watched him as he polished that long knife that seemed so important to him. _I wonder why he loves knives so much._

"Knives are the only thing I want in the world, nothing more," he said as if he heard my thoughts. He gave me a furtive glance before he went back to his knife.

"You really, really like…knives?" I asked hesitantly. "What if…what if you…accidentally get cut or…?"

"It's okay," he answered cheerfully. "Look." He took the knife and slashed it across shoulder. A very large gash appeared, but no blood. "I don't get hurt. I never get hurt," he sang out, smiling at me.

I gazed at him in fascination, wondering if it would be better to be like him—never sad, never hurt. No pain. That would be wonderful. "That's great, " I said. "How come you never come down too often?"

He shrugged, putting his knife down on the bed. "I like it here."

"But down there…in the kitchen, are more knives," I said slowly. "I was thinking maybe you'd like them."

His eye lit up. "More knives?" Then his face fell. "But I don't really like the downstairs."

"I'll get you some knives when I come back here, then." I promised.

"You would?"

"I would." Then I stood up. "It's been nice talking to you. Farfello. I'll see you tomorrow, probably." Then I walked out.

"You will. Tomorrow, I'm giving you a gift. So come back, Futora." His voice called out.

I never thought he knew my name.

The next day, I came back with a dozen kitchen knives. Just before I left, he gave me this shiny, sharp, fancy looking gleaming knife the one he was so carefully polishing the day before—a short sword, he called it. I thanked him and promised to come by and see him everyday.

From then on, I started thinking of him as much as I thought of Brad, Schrudich, and my brothers. Strangely enough, from that time on, Farfello and I built up some sort of understanding between us.

And that was why I was there.

So there –was- a reason, after all.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Schrudich spent the rest of that afternoon with me, sitting in the gazebo and staring out at the sun and the rest of nature. We weren't talking—only thinking quietly to each other. Sometimes he'd make a comment or two, or question me about something. Then I'd give a short and brief answer. But most of the time, we just sat there, gazing at everything.

Sometime later, I fell asleep. I don't know how long I was asleep. I only knew that I awoke a little while later, when I felt someone tap my shoulder. _Wake up, Sugar._

Schrudich. _How long was I asleep?_ I gazed at him and gave a yawn as I straightened out my hair.

__

Two hours, Sugar. He smiled at me._ Crawford will be here any minute. It's better if we're both awake to meet whoever it is that he's bringing._

What about Farfello?

What about him? I'm very sure he's awake. He's on his way here. A familiar figure appeared at the glass door, which was the entrance to the garden from the living room._ See. There he is now._

Farfello nodded at Schrudich, then he nodded at me and sat down beside me.

__

Where is Brad meeting us? Here? I gazed questioningly at Schrudich.

__

That's what I told him, Sugar. He ruffled my hair as I looked at him, still with a bewildered expression on my face, because I knew I hadn't previously told Brad I was going to be in the garden this afternoon. _Sugar, you're beautiful, you know that? Incredibly. He let his fingertips trace the curve of my cheek. That's why Crawford cares for you so…_

I moved away from him. I was so used to his teasing by now, because this was what he liked to do usually if he wasn't digging up my thoughts. If he used to make me blush before, now I was just mildly irritated. _Don't change the subject. When did you tell him?_

Just now.

Just now? I gazed at him again._ But…_

"He's here." A short, brief statement from Farfello.

And there he was. Brad Crawford, wearing his familiar office suit. And his glasses. And his familiar dark hair and his familiar tall stance. He held that familiar smile, that smile I remember as salvation's smile—smile that, I knew, he could have directed only to me.

As he approached the garden where the three of us were, I looked around him, wondering where that "someone" he said he was bringing to the mansion was.

As he approached nearer, a small, thin figure behind him caught my eye. I felt my breath getting constricted in my throat as I realized who that person behind Brad was.

As four years is not enough for me to even forget about him, so is four years not enough for me not recognize that familiar figure—that stance, that face, that person…for this was a person I would know instantly and forever, whether the time we were separated was four or forty years. It made no difference.

I remember him as clearly as that time, when I was eight and he was seven.

My brother, Nagi.

Then I saw him break away, out of Brad's shadow.

His first shout of "Oneesan!" should have brought tears to my eyes as I hugged him close and he hugged me back. I raised my hand to my eyes to wipe my tears…

Tears that weren't there.

But there was a constriction in my throat.

I wasn't crying, and neither was he as we hugged each other, siblings reunited after death—siblings reunited after four years. After separation there was reunion.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Them.

The most important people in my life after my parents died and when I came to be in the SZ mansion, was them.

In Brad Crawford, I found a savior—a guardian and an older brother. And during those times in my life when I so needed one, he was there. And I'm grateful for that.

In Schrudich, I found a best friend—someone who knows everything about me and chooses to know even the littlest details I won't tell him. And for that, I'm thankful.

In Farfello, I found a person so like me, yet so different. He discovered a way to escape his troubled childhood, as I couldn't. But through him, I found a way to escape. And I'm thankful for that.

Perhaps it had to take me knowing the three of them before I was able to reunite with my own brother. I guess it was meant for them to, whether directly or indirectly, bring my brother and me back together.

Nagi was the last piece of the puzzle the SZ needed to find. Him, plus Brad, Schrudich, and Farfello, formed what they called as Schwarz.

Black. Schwarz.

The SZ sent me to Germany when I was fourteen to keep on the lookout for things there and inform everyone—Schwarz and SZ—of all the happenings. I was a student in one of the schools in Berlin, and I kept track of all that's happening there. Through this, according to the SZ, I might be able to find a way to avenge my parents' death, avenge my lost childhood—and find my other brother, my youngest brother, Makoto Naoe.

For four years, I was the extension of both Schwarz and SZ. A secret keeper, that's what I was. An information gatherer. A spy.

But my mind kept questioning me still, as to the reason why I am here in front of this building—the Police main building. I was no longer eight years old—I was eighteen, and I had no reason to be here. _So why am I here? What was it that drew me?_

I didn't know, but something did. For there had to be a reason why I was here. _There is always a reason._

I sat down on one of the benches near the fountain. _Is this another one of those unexplainable things that has been happening to me lately?_ I shook my head. I turned my gaze to the sun setting over on the horizon. _What am I still doing here? I should leave. But…_

Then I looked up as a tall, casually clothed figure passed me by. He turned his head as I raised mine up, and my eyes met his, squarely.

He had blond hair, cut long, and they fell around his boyish-looking face. I could tell he was around my age, though I don't know how I could have known that.

But what really drew me were his eyes. They were big, and a deep, incredible shade of blue.

Beautiful blue.

Then, he smiled, before he turned his head and walked away.

I watched as he disappeared from my view, wondering who he was. I have never seen him before.

Something was lifted from my shoulders, and now, strangely, it seems like I had no reason to be here, before the police main building. Whatever it was that drew me to be here was gone.

__

Gone where? I thought, staring back to direction where that blue-eyed young man disappeared from my view. I wondered if it was him who drew me to be here.

Then I realized, it just couldn't be.

__

No one can ever draw me to the last place I want to be just like that, I thought as I put on my helmet and stepped into my motorcycle.

__

No one can do that to me, I told myself firmly as I drove away.

**End notes:**  
  
Ahh, that was long.=) Chapter 2 will be up by next week. It's done, I just have to fix a couple of things.  
  
Reviews will be very much appreciated.


	2. Chapter 2 Him

**__**

A Few Good Men

Chapter 2-Him

Twelve o' clock.

He always came down at that time. Twelve o' clock noon, sharp. Everyday, we eat lunch together at that exact time, here in the soccer field with the kids I coached.

But sometimes, he came early. Usually, it was if he was exempted from some exam. Or sometimes, their professor lets him leave early.

That's one good thing about being smart, like he is. Professors love you, not to mention you always get special privileges, and getting good grades aren't bad either. Course, I never cared too much for stuff like grades back when I was still in school, but he does. He cares a whole lot, because he still had a good chance to build up his future.

As for me-I don't. 

I gave a little sigh. _I wonder, if I was his age right now, under the circumstances, would I choose to do what he is doing right now?_

I shrugged. _Probably not._ He and I are very different. That's why if it happened that I was the same age as he is, I don't think I would be doing what he is doing. And anyway, I'm not really smart like he is. I probably wouldn't get the special privileges he does. Privileges like getting out of class early.

Speaking of getting out of class early, I glanced at my watch. Eleven-thirty. If he was going to be early today, he should be here by now. But there was no sign of him anywhere, it seems. _I wonder where his is now. Still in class?_

I gave another shrug. Maybe he had a project to do or something. Whenever he came in late, that was usually his reason-a project of some sort, or some extra credit activity he was working on. I don't know what it is with him and extra credit activities, but I do know that, now that it was his last year in high school, things are pretty hectic, and they had a lot of stuff to do.

"KEN-NIICHAN! WATCH OUT FOR THE BALL!!!"

I turned my head in the nick of time when I heard someone call out to me. The soccer ball was heading my way, aimed straight at my head. I swiftly blocked it and passed it to the person nearest to me-a little red-haired girl named Seiki-the one who warned me about the incoming ball. I gave her a thumbs-up sign, and in a couple of seconds the game was underway again.

I walked out of the playing field and sat down on the bleachers to watch the kids for a moment. When he came in early, his first thing would be to come down here, towards the bleachers. He would sit here--right on this very spot where I was. He would then give me and the kids a wave. And then after that, he would open up his laptop computer and work on some project, and continue doing that until we finished our practice. During that time, he would close up his computer and talk to us.

But he does more than talk. Like a Boy Scout, he was always ready with all the necessary things. Like, if one of the kids got hurt or wounded during practice, he would take out some stuff and tend to the kid's needs. Or if I had a really bad headache, he'd give me a Tylenol to ease it. 

He had everything from alcohol to bandages to tablets. I honestly don't know where he puts them, because he only brings one small backpack to school, aside from his computer. But no matter-he was always there, ready to help everyone.

Even with the kids' homework. Since he was very smart, he knew a lot. He was very good in teaching the kids when they don't understand something in their lessons or in their homework.

Heck, I think even I myself could use a little bit of the stuff he's teaching them. I always say he was really a genius, but when I tell him that, he just sort of smiles and shakes his head.

_"Ken-kun, I'm no genius. You know I'm not. You're just saying that."_

I swore to him I wasn't just saying that, for I know a genius when I see one. But he goes on.

_"I'm just a normal eighteen-year-old just like other eighteen-year-olds. I just happen to work harder than the ordinary person. Now, if other people do what I do, then, this would be normal."_

I don't say anything more after that. It's hard to argue when he starts reciting words of wisdom.

_"Just like everyone else, there are some things I still need to learn. Like soccer." _

When he goes on that note, I give him a smile and sort of shake my head. I always try to persuade him to play soccer with me sometimes, but he always refuses. Only recently did he give in to my wishes, but he didn't play with us that often. School was still keeping him really busy, he says. But I wonder why he seemed to be busier than everyone else? Sometimes I see some of his classmates around, and they never appear to be busy.

I asked him that.

_"I told you, Ken-kun. I work harder than the ordinary person. Just wait, those guys will be borrowing my notes about two days before finals." _

That explained it. In my opinion, though, he wouldn't have a problem acing any exam with his eyes closed, even if he didn't study. He was a genius, and that's enough for him to excel in anything.

Plenty of times, I still wonder how I, a wuss, and he, a genius, are such good friends. Are we living proof that opposites attract? I doubt that, but probably. I didn't really choose him as one of my friends. 

I never choose any of my friends. Just like him, all of my friends become my friends because, well--because they become my friends. They came to me, because they came. Putting it simply, there was no reason why they became my friends, because I didn't choose them, nor did anyone else choose them for me. 

And in one small part of my life, that became my mistake. Not choosing my friends cost me, not only my career, or my other friends, or my future-but my whole life.

*~*~*~*~*~*

One mistake, one wrong friend. I had one-only one wrong friend, and I had lost everything because of that singular mistake.

More than five years ago, I was in the Japanese Soccer League. Our team was one of the best teams in the country. We were champion for several consecutive years, and one of the main reasons why we were able to carry the champion title that long, was me.

Yes, you heard right. Me. Though I didn't excel much in school, one thing I excelled at was sports. I can play almost every sport very well.

Except maybe chess. But I'm particularly good at soccer.

Okay, not just -particularly good-. My coach in J-league used to say that I was an exceptional player. Well, at least that was before everything that happened. But that comes later.

I was our team's goalie. Or star goalie, whichever way you put it. I was a very good goalie because in my soccer-playing lifetime I was able to make plenty of saves. That was another way of saying I was usually able to prevent the other team from scoring most of the time.

And that was another way of saying our team usually won--for even if the goalies of the other teams were good, they weren't as good as I was.

Just like all the other soccer teams I had a relief goalie--he was the one who played when I wasn't around--which was almost never, and he also played every time I took a break. And that wasn't very often either.

Which was another way of saying he never got to play a lot. And I don't know if that was unfair or not, but my coach had told me very honestly that I was better than him. -Way- better. And as much as I hated to admit it--because he was my friend--I've seen him play, and I really was better than him. Our coach thought so, too, I guess that was why he(coach) allowed me to play more often and benched him most of the time.

And as much as I didn't think that was fair, I wanted to win.

I knew he wanted to play, too, but all I could do was sympathize since I didn't have the last say regarding our team lineups. Coach did, and his decision was to for me to play as long as I can, and for my relief to take over if and only if it was really necessary. I knew he didn't like Coach's decision. He told so himself. He told me everything, as I, likewise, told him everything.

He was my best friend. He was also our team's relief goalie, and his name was Koichirou Kase.

And he was the one mistake in my life I couldn't undo. For a long time, I had thought he was my best friend. I trusted him completely with all my problems and my secrets. I never even knew that trusting him completely was the gravest mistake I could ever make in my whole life.

-He- was the one who took away my life--and I never even knew, until a year ago.

The year when I was fifteen was the last year I ever played in the Japanese Soccer League.

A game that was to decide who would get to the semifinals was the first ever game where I missed seven successive saves. I don't know what had come over me that day, but the steps I took then and after that eventually decided the course of my life.

I sought advice from my best friend Kase. After the game (which we won, luckily, in spite of my misses), I talked to him. He gave me a drink that would restore my strength--or so he had said. And then I became hopeful that I was going to make it this time. And my guess was, Coach was hopeful too, because he didn't take me out of the next game.

We lost our first game of the season that day. Even worse, we lost our first -ever- game on that day. It was my fault, I knew, for I made a lot more misses that time than I did on the first game of the season.

Everyone thought I was just going through a phase. Even I did.

But the next blow came upon me like a crash. Louder, harder. I was then accused of betting on my own games--that explained a whole lot, especially, one on particular--my missing a lot of saves.

From that time the word of my so-called "deeds" went around, I was never allowed to play first-string again.

And then one day, I found out that I had been kicked out of the team.

Kicked out of the one thing--the -only- thing I ever really loved.

And after that, I made another mistake that made everything even worse.

I mean, what the heck--I lost my life the day I was kicked out of soccer, because soccer was my life. Things couldn't get any worse, right? What's the worse thing that could happen after you lose your life?

I found out, soon enough. When I decided to ask for Kase's help again, I made a mistake, and in the process, I lost something far more precious than my life--I lost myself.

Kase and I met in an old warehouse at the back of a restaurant outside of town. The occurrences in that old warehouse had been the turning point in my life. Or should I say, the turning point in my non-life. It was his idea that we meet there.

__

"I'm sorry about everything, Ken. I know I should have told you this sooner, but…"

"What, Kase?"

"I didn't know that they put something in that drink! I didn't know!! Ken, I'm so sorry…"

"I'm not blaming you for it…"

"I'm sorry, Ken! I really am! I'll make it up to you…"

"It's all over for me, Kase. But don't worry, I'll be fine. Just get on with your life…"

"No, Ken, NO! You're innocent! I promise, I'll clear your name! I'll find proof! I promise, Ken!"

"Kase…" A noise. _"What's that?!?"_

"Ken, I promise I'll…"

"KASE, LOOK OUT!" A sharp, stabbing pain pierced my head. Above me stood a man, with a scar, holding a steel pipe, aiming another blow at me.

__

"KEN!"

The last thing I saw was Kase being dragged out of the warehouse. Then the man with the scar hit me on the head once again. And then, there was a puff of smoke, then a burst of flames, before there was darkness.

*~*~*~*~*~*

I don't remember anything that happened after that, because when I awoke next, it was from a bad dream. Everything that happened in the warehouse during that night, I relieved all over again in a dream. 

Or more like--a nightmare.

One thing I was thankful for was the presence of another human being in the room where I was when I had that nightmare.

I gazed at the school building at my back and smiled.

Him. I owe him a lot, for he was the other human being I was talking about--the human being who was there in the room on that day when I had my nightmare.

I remember waking up and feeling as if the whole place was on fire. I was in panic. I wanted to jump from the bed and run out, away from the fire…

"No, DON'T! You'll hurt yourself." A calm and firm voice and a strong pair of hands stopped me.

"THERE'S A FIRE! Don't you see?" I choked, pushing him away. "We have to get out of here…"

"There is NO fire, Ken-kun," the same firm and calm voice said quietly. "You were having a nightmare. Open your eyes."

That was when I realized I had my eyes closed. I opened them…and a peaceful night sky flashed before me. No sign of fire. I gazed at my hands, the whole room.

__

No sign of fire. I looked at the person standing in front of me--to the face of the owner of the voice that calmed me…and came into eye contact with a boy.

A boy, young, with blond hair and blue eyes. That was him, five years ago. His eyes held an expression of concern.

"Where am I?" I asked. I noticed my speech was slurred and husky, like I haven't spoken for a long time.

"In a hospital room. You've been in a coma for three months." He answered.

"Who are you?" I asked again. " What am I doing here? Where's Kase? What happened to him? The warehouse…"

"The warehouse burned, Ken-kun. And about your friend…" His voice trailed off, and he looked away. "Someone saw him get abducted by two men, but didn't know where they took him."

I buried my face in my hands.

"I'm sorry." He sighed. "As for your other question…my name is Tsukiyono Omi. After you recover, I'm going to take you to the apartment building where you will live from now on. It's all been taken care of."

I gazed at him in amazement. I was very surprised at what he had said, and the way he said them--everything sounded so final, so decided. And he didn't look like he was older than…thirteen?

Such things he said, I expected to have come from someone older, much older.

"When we get to the apartment, I'll tell you everything you need to know, and I'll try to answer some of your questions. If I can't, then someone else will."

I didn't say anything. I was still a little speechless.

He sighed again. "You'd better get back to sleep, Ken-kun. Tomorrow, we can talk more. If that's alright with you." He started to head back to the seatee where he slept.

"Omi." He stopped and turned around. "Thank you."

He smiled. "You're welcome, Ken-kun."

Then we both went back to sleep.

*~*~*~*~*~*

The next morning, the doctors checked me up. He stayed by my side all throughout the checkup. Then I was told to stay for two more days. Two days after, I was discharged. Then we went out and drove towards the apartment building in his motorcycle.

He stopped at a building with a flowershop at the front. The building was about three floors high, and on the front of the first floor, that's where the flowershop was. There was a shade that seemed to separate the first floor from the other floors, because it was situated right on the spot where the first floor ceiling and the bottom of the second floor meet. The front of the first floor was covered with glass windows, and flower boxes lined the outside front. On the window on the right, at the top just below the shade was a sign that said _Kitten in the House_, which I guessed to be the name of the flowershop. At the entrance was a tiny old lady sitting in a chair with a cat in her lap--a lady, whom I guessed to be the caretaker of the whole place.

"This is where you're going to live. This is where I live, too. And this is Momoe-san," He added, referring to the tiny old lady. He led me inside the place that was to be, as he had said, my home from that time on.

As soon as I got settled in, he filled me in on all that occurred after the fire in the warehouse.

"You were knocked unconscious. Totally unconscious. When they dragged your body out of that warehouse, you were half-dead. But I wouldn't know that for sure, though. I wasn' t there. I only know what Manx told me."

And then, I asked, who was Manx?

"You'll find out soon enough," he answered. "You were rushed to the hospital, and luckily, they were able to save you. However," he continued, "you wouldn't wake up. For three whole months, you just stayed unconscious in your hospital bed."

"Were you with me the whole time then?"

He shook his head. "Not all the time. I had school. Manx and the nurses took care of you in the mornings. I only stayed to watch you at night. And anyway, they only allowed me to do that because Persia found out that someone wanted to kill you."

Someone wanted me dead? I wondered who. I didn't know who would've wanted me dead--I was nothing but an ex-J-leaguer. What would anyone want with an ex-J-leaguer?

"I know. We were wondering that too," he said, as if he read my mind. "But we hope to find out."

Find out? Who are these people?

"Manx. Manx will explain who we are. Who you will be, if you decide to become one of us." He gave me a reassuring smile. "Anyway, two weeks ago, you awoke from the coma. But it wasn't waking up at all. You were physically awake, but you weren't there. You wouldn't move, you wouldn't speak, and you wouldn't even focus your eyes. It was as if you were willing yourself to die."

And that's when I remembered that first time I woke up after the warehouse fire. I had thought I had lost everything--that there was no life, that there wasn't even a non-life left for me. I thought I saw something, yet I refused to see. I thought I touched something, but I didn't try to feel. Then I thought I heard something, but I didn't try to hear it. I wanted to say something, but what's the use? Technically I was dead. Heck, I didn't even have a non-life.

"I was like that for two weeks." I stated, more to myself than to him.

A nod. "That's right. For two weeks you were…"

"For two weeks I was unfocused. Until three days ago."

"Right." He confirmed. He gazed at me. "You almost cut your IV tubes, you know." He pointed to my hand.

"But you stopped me." For the first time in a long while, I felt like smiling. "I have a lot to be thankful for, especially to you."

A shrug, then he grinned. "Don't thank just me. Thank them."

"Them?"

"Manx. And Persia. Kritiker," he added.

Kritiker?

That night, I met the woman called Manx. She was in her early twenties, with red hair.

And the things that happened next--the things she said, and the things an unseen man called Persia said, and my decisions that night, started the new life that I was to live.

I was to become Weiß, a white hunter during the night--one who "hunts the tomorrows of the dark beasts." In the morning, I was also a salesclerk at Kitten in the House.

In the morning, I was known as Hidaka Ken, flowershop clerk. At night, I was Siberian of Weiß Kreuz, an assassin who uses tiger claws to kill.

Then, there was him. He was also like me. Only thirteen years old and he was already an assassin. He was a child with no past, as I found out, for he couldn't remember anything, other than coming to Kitten and becoming Weiß. He couldn't remember any of his childhood. That was then.

In the morning, he was Tsukiyono Omi, flowershop clerk and junior high school student. At night, he was Bombay of Weiß Kreuz, an assassin who uses a crossbow and darts to kill.

In my previous life, I was a soccer player.

Now, I was one of Weiß, an assassin. This was my new life.

*~*~*~*~*~*

"Ken-niichan?" A male voice.

"Ken-kun? Are you okay?" Another male voice. Older sounding this time.

"Ken-niichan? Can we eat now? We still have class." A small hand waved in front of my face. Seiki.

"Ken-kun, have you been daydreaming again?" The older sounding male voice. Him.

"Ken-niichan, it's after twelve," the male voice earlier. Soujiro, Seiki's older brother. I noticed he was beside me.

I finally snapped back into focus. "Oh, yeah. Lunch." I muttered. I stood up. Then I felt a hand on my shoulder.

Him. "You look like you were thinking of something pretty intense there." He commented, his blue eyes gazing at me intently.

I shook my head. "It was nothing, really."

He nodded. "If you say so." He then turned to the kids. "Okay everyone, Omi-niichan brought you some rice balls…now, eat!"

I smiled at the affectionate way he handled the kids. We were so alike in many ways, he and I. So alike yet so different. The only sports he played in school were darts and chess, while my favorite school subject was recess. I still wonder why we were such good friends.

"Ken-kun?"

I looked at him inquiringly. "Yes?"

"Let's eat!" He gave me a grin and handed me a rice ball. We sat down on the field beside the kids and started to eat.

We were quiet for a little while, listening to the kids eat and laugh and talk amongst themselves.

"I was remembering the fire." I told him quietly.

"The fire? At the warehouse? Ken-kun, that was more than five years ago." He gazed at me anxiously.

"I know. It's just that Kase…"

"You still think of him?"

"A whole lot. He was my best friend."

He nodded. "I guess you never completely forget."

"I had no right to end his life, you know."

He shrugged. "Maybe, maybe not."

I sighed. Right after I became Weiß, I had thought a lot about Kase. Back then, I had felt sad and guilty that his desire to clear my name probably caused him his own life.

Then, just last year, I saw him. He was alive! I was very happy about that fact. He was the same as I remembered when I saw him. He still wanted to do something--find proof, a witness, anything--to clear my name. He still wanted to help me.

Or so I had thought.

It was a mistake to trust him again, but it was all too late when I realized that. He was one of Weiß's targets, but I did everything in my power to delay the mission. I wanted to protect him the way he was protecting me.

Or so I had thought.

I never even knew I was protecting an enemy until he himself told me--that time, when I had decided to kill the other target who was his boss.

_"I can't believe how slow you are, Ken! Haven't you realized it yet? I'M the one who got you kicked off the team. You were so great, and everyone loved you. But what of me? I'm just a relief--a spare for excellent players like you. And I hated you because of that._

"_I was the one betting on our games, Ken. It was ME." _A sinister laugh._ "Goodbye, Hidaka Ken, my best friend." _Then he fired his gun at me, repeatedly.

He thought he had killed me then. But he was wrong. I was smarter than he thought.

_"KEN?!? You're alive?!? But…"_

"My…mission is not yet…over." Then I lunged at him with my tiger claws.

__

"I'm sorry Ken! I'll make it up to you! I was just jealous! Ken, please…" He pleaded before me, and I wanted to forgive him.

And I was going to, but…

_"Ken, you are so gullible."_ I saw that sinister look in his eyes again.

That was the last straw. I dug my tiger claws straight into his chest._ "Sorry, Kase."_

The last words I heard him say were, _"And I'll see you in hell, Ken…"_ before he fell dead on the ground.

And that was the last of Kase, because I had killed him. But even in death, he still continued to haunt me. I still thought of him quite constantly.

"I know what you're going to say," I told Omi quietly as I unwrapped my rice ball. "I had no choice."

He shook his head. "I was going to say that, to my knowledge, you didn't have a choice." He shrugged. "As for him, he could have forgotten that hatred. It's not your fault you're good at soccer."

I knew he was right. But still…

"You can't help but think of him." He said as if he read my mind…again. "I guess it's only normal. And know what I think? Even if it's painful to remember him, hey, at least you remember. It only hurts when it's fresh, but gradually, whatever pain is there, will heal. Then, it's going to become just a distant and sad memory. The sadness will be there, but at least the pain will be gone." He gave me a reassuring smile.

I smiled back. What he said made perfect sense. "Where do you get all these stuff you know?"

"Nowhere." He said matter-of-factly. "It's just something I think about once in a while every time my thoughts take a twist to thinking about Weiß." He popped the last piece of his rice ball into his mouth.

"So it's better if you remember?" I asked.

"I think it depends on how intense the memory is," he answered. "But in my opinion, forgetting is like escaping reality. I think people who remember are really lucky." His voice took on a sad note. "Some people who forget, they forget for a long time, but when they remember, it hurts twice as much. Then they'll start thinking, it would've been better it they never forgot it at all."

I knew who he was talking about. Himself. Something bad happened to him when he was young, something he chose not to remember, but recently he was able to remember. None of us actually know the whole story--well, except for Persia, maybe, but he died last year…

"I remember Persia…Uncle Shuuichi telling me once that I was better off forgetting everything that happened, because remembering would only make me sad." He took a deep breath and his eyes met mine squarely. "I ended up forgetting my whole childhood. He thought it was for the best…" I could tell he was getting teary-eyed, from the way he spoke. Talking about his Uncle Shuuichi, also known as Weiß's former commander, was a sad subject for him.

I didn't want him to continue. One person reminiscing about the past was quite enough for one day. I understood what he was trying to tell me.

"I understand, Omi. It's better to remember." I gave him a smile.

"And remember too, Ken-kun, that no matter what, it wasn't your fault. You didn't make the mistake, -he- did. When he chose to let his hate for you overcome him, that was when he made the gravest mistake he could ever make." He told me.

I nodded. He really had a way of making me feel better. 

But who would make -him- feel better?

He gave me a reassuring smile. "I'll be okay. I'll remember everything someday…soon," he added.

I only wish I could do something to help him remember.

I sighed, then I stood up when I saw the kids looking at us expectantly. "We should take the kids back to school, Omi."

He nodded. "Uh-huh." He stood up too. "And Ken-kun?"

"Yeah?"

"It's not your fault, okay?" He said. "Don't blame yourself."

I nodded. As we took the kids back to school I tried recalling all that he had said. He knew that it was sudden that I started thinking of Kase again. What he didn't know was, the reason I started thinking of Kase, was because I was thinking of him.

*~*~*~*~*~*

As soon as we had brought the kids back to school, I asked him if he was alright. I hadn't forgotten that time when he got really sad just a little while ago.

"I'm fine," he nodded, but he stayed silent after that as we walked.

Then I asked him if he had any more classes that afternoon.

"I'm done for the day," he answered matter-of-factly. "It's my turn to watch the shop this afternoon."

"Then we'd better get to the train station, fast. I'm sure Aya and Yohji are waiting." Omi and I took the train every morning because his school was in Tokyo and the kids I coached were here in Tokyo as well. Our moving flowershop, meanwhile, is now in Kyoto.

I started walking fast. I wanted to talk to him, but I couldn't find the right words to begin. And besides, I had no idea what I wanted to tell him.

"Ken-kun." He was behind me, thinking to himself, probably. I turned around. "It wasn't your fault that I remembered something today and you know….I got sad. The reason that happened was…" he paused. "Yesterday. The memory, my childhood, the nightmare…something else triggered it." He caught up with me and we walked to the train station which was still a couple of blocks away.

"What was it?" I asked, while all the while, I was thinking…the accusations against me, the warehouse fire, that thing about Kase…they all got triggered by something.

Or someone. Him.

"I was at the Police Main Building yesterday. The one where Uncle Shuuichi used to be a director." He added quietly.

"You mean, here in Tokyo?" I gazed at him strangely.

"Uh-huh."

"But why would you go there?" I asked as we paid for train tickets.

He shrugged. "I don't know why I came. I just woke up yesterday morning and…decided I'd go there." He buried his hands in his pockets. "Something…drew me, I guess."

Something? I wondered. But what could that have been? Kritiker's headquarters was no longer situated at the Police Main. Sure, Manx and Birman still worked there, but…

"I know. I was thinking that too," he said as if reading my mind. "I did go inside, but when I got in, I realized I had absolutely no reason for going. But I stayed." A sigh. "It was really weird. I didn't have any business with the police, but I stayed. I asked for Manx, but she wasn't around. Then I asked for Birman, but she wasn't around either. I figured, maybe I needed to talk to them about a mission or something. But since they weren't there, I knew I had no reason to be there anymore." Then he looked at me and shrugged. "It was really weird, I was going to leave, but something held me back. It was as if something--or someone--wanted me to stay a bit longer." He gave a nervous laugh. "I thought maybe Uncle Shuuichi's ghost was haunting me."

"So what was it?" I asked as we stepped into the train. It closed and then started up.

"I don't know," he replied dryly. "I've been wondering about that myself. But after that, I went outside. Maybe I needed to wait for whatever it is to happen outside. So I went out and walked around at the front. I thought maybe I'd remember why I came there if I took a walk. Either that or whatever it was I was waiting for would come or something." Then he gave me a small smile. "I don't know what this means, but the strangest thing happened. As soon as got near the benches around the fountain, I caught a glimpse of this…young woman. Then, it's as if I was able to accomplish whatever it was that I came for."

"A young woman?"

"Yeah. She was about my age, Ken-kun. I passed her by, and you know…I sort of gave her a smile." He rolled his eyes. "Yohji-kun would've been embarrassed. I didn't even approach her or talk to her, ask her name. Yohji-kun would've. She was very, very beautiful." Was that a hint of a blush I see in his face?

"Wait a minute…you don't mean to tell me -she- was the one who drew you to be there?"

"I don't know. I've thought about it, and she couldn't be my reason. It has to be something else that I just forgot. Anyway, seeing her was like…you know…dejà vu? I think I've seen her somewhere before, though I don't exactly know when or where. I've never seen her around Tokyo, but I think we've met before."

"That's really weird."

"You can say that again. Anyway, so I went back home, and then that's when the dreams started again, you know?"

"Well…do you think she's part of your past?" I asked.

He shrugged. "I'm not sure. But I hope to find out. Ken-kun, I want to come back there. I'm going to see Manx. She might know."

"Well…that's your choice," I said tentatively. "I guess."

"If it's alright with you, can you come with me? I need a little backing."

"Well, okay, I can come if you want." I smiled as the train halted to a stop.

He smiled back. "Thanks." He said as we walked out of the train. Then we walked a couple of more blocks until we reached the parking lot where Yohji and Aya had parked the flowershop trailer.

Then, we were there, at the front. "You're late." Yohji remarked.

I grinned. "Sorry. Did you have a date?"

"Nah. I'm gonna hang out. Man, I'm starving. Yo," he turned to Aya. "you about finished there?"

A brief nod. "Uh-huh." Aya took of his apron and tossed it on a table. He walked out and handed Omi the sprinkler. "Finish watering the lilies. And don't forget to count the cashier before you close up." He disappeared into the trailer.

Yohji threw up his apron. "Later, you two." He told us as he left.

Omi handed me the sprinkler and I finished watering the lilies. He checked the cash register while I was doing that.

We transacted some business for a little while. Several girls stopped by and gushed and oohed and aahed over the flowers and at…uh…us.

"Omi-ku~n, get me this!"

"Okay…"

"Omi, I want this…and this, too!"

"Yeah, yeah…sure."

I could tell most of the girls were eyeing him, and I was glad for that. Hey, at least they weren't eyeing -me-. I think most of Aya's, Yohji's and my admirers shifted to admiring Omi this year. He'd grown a lot over the past year, and he was now as tall as me. But he still held that boyish, angelic face that most girls simply love and adore.

He looked over at me helplessly. I gave him a grin and a thumbs-up sign.

After the girls left, he sat down on a chair, exhausted.

"I don't know many girls who could wear me out like that," he panted. "Geeze. That bunch, they're so…"

"--in love with you?" I teased.

He glared at me. "Ken-kun…" he warned.

I laughed. "Kidding."

He smiled, then almost immediately, his face took on a serious look. "Ken-kun, I…want to thank you. For, you know…listening to me, and for everything."

Everything?

"Don't thank me. I didn't do anything."

He shook his head. "You were there when I needed someone to talk to, and I'm grateful for that."

I wanted to say, _you were there when I was almost ready to give up everything, and you gave everything back to me--and then some. I should be the one thanking you._ But instead, I said, "You're very welcome."

He smiled. "You're very welcome too, Ken-kun." He said, as if reading my mind.

I still wonder if maybe, just maybe--he could read minds.

But then I start thinking, _that's just his way._

Tsukiyono Omi, that was him.

**End notes:**  
  
I am no expert on the name spellings of the Weiß characters. I appreciate very much the review(s) that indicated or will indicate corrections on the name spellings, but please note that I will not be changing any of them. I'll continue to use the spellings I've been used to for the past 5 years. But thanks to all those who corrected me anyways.

Very big thanks to everyone who reviewed. Chapter 3 will be in Omi's POV. It will be up next week.  
  
Reviews will be very much appreciated.


	3. Chapter 3 Her

**__**

A Few Good Men

Chapter 3-Her

"Good morning!" I said cheerfully as a group of girls entered the flowershop.

The girls looked over at me, then they, uh…giggled. For some reason.

I grinned at them. Then I rolled my eyes as I continued what I was doing. I was watering a row of petunias by the front entrance.

Where was I? Back at Kitten in the House in Tokyo. Two days ago, Yohji-kun, Aya-kun, Ken-kun and I went back here.

For what purpose? 

I really don't know. We were doing perfectly fine in our flowershop trailer, but for some reason, we were instructed to come back here by Manx, Birman and the rest of Kritiker.

"Omi-ku~n!" A girly voice called out to me. I went to attend to the needs of the customers who came in earlier. It was a Saturday morning, and business was going positively slow.

But that was fine with me. There were a lot of things going on in my mind right now and I don't think I can handle an extensive amount of people in this state. Not that this shop ever really gets too crowded, anyway.

I wrapped up a dozen daisies and handed it to the girls. I gave them another grin as I transacted their purchase. The girls giggled -again- as they went out and said their thank-yous and good-byes in a chorus punctuated with a loud burst of giggles.

I rolled my eyes again, smiling slightly to myself. _Girls._

I heard a snort behind me. I turned around to find Yohji-kun grinning at me knowingly. "You're turning into a Casanova like me, kid," he remarked, placing an arm around my shoulder.

"What are you talking about, Yohji-kun?" I raised an eyebrow and shifted, away from him.

He lowered his sunglasses and inclined his head at the direction of the door. "Those girls."

"What?"

A cough. "He means," Ken-kun said from the cash register, "that you're stealing all the girls away from him. Did you see that group who came by? They didn't even give -him- a single glance because they were so busy checking -you- out." He added, giving me a grin.

"I didn't mean -that-," Yohji-kun countered. "I was going to say, you're learning, kid," he gave me a wink, "but you've still got a lot to learn. Take it from the master," he added proudly, referring to himself. "To get girls to like you, you have to talk. And," he continued, "-don't- roll your eyes so much."

I rolled my eyes.

"-There-! See," he said triumphantly. "Not very attractive."

"Yohji-kun…" I warned. He's always trying to get me to talk to girls more…

"What?" He said innocently. "I'm just trying to-"

"Omi means," Aya-kun, who was silent the whole time, "you should leave him alone, Yohji. If he needs advice from you, he'll ask for it."

"Hmph." Yohji-kun grunted.

The chimes rang as the door was opened. Yohji-kun's eyes brightened as another passel of female customers came in. "Now, Omi, watch the master in action," he said, winking at me as he went to the girls.

I met Ken-kun's eyes and we both grinned. I shook my head. Yohji-kun never changes.

Change is something that's always constant in every human being's life. In our case, it's our lifestyle that always changes. Every single day, it changes.

And for normal people, that's hardly normal. Routine--that's what's normal for them.

As for us, normal is when everything's not normal--if that makes any sense.

On the outside, we look normal--four guys who ran a flowershop--at least if you call that normal. Four ordinary guys who, like typical ordinary guys, play sports and date girls and get into fights and sometimes become victims of our own overactive male hormones and guys who come into bed at night to study or to write something or to sleep or to sleep with the newest girlfriend.

I may not be talking about all of us in general there, but each one of those possibly describes each one of us.

Another description I failed to mention is one important characteristic that all of us possess--this is one of the many characteristics that we all share. It's this: vigilance--the fact that as we sleep each night, we keep one eye and ear open.

Every single night, there is one thought that all of us have: the thought that, as we close our eyes to sleep this night, we might never see tomorrow come. Literally. Because every time we close our eyes to sleep, there's a possibility that we may never wake up again.

Each night, there's a possibility that one of us--or all of us--may die.

And I can name many colorful reasons as to why that is so.

Anyway, that's the consequence of our un-normal normal life. We thrive on danger, and ironic as it may be, this…thought--that we might never wake up again--this keeps us alive. 

But don't get me wrong, it's not the fear of not waking up again that keeps us alive--it's the thought itself.

For years, we've been living like this.

Much longer for me than it was for them, though.

Six years, to be exact.

One other characteristic that we have in common is where we all came from. Simply put--our pasts. Or bitter pasts, should I say. We all came from past lives that were too painful to even remember. These are our pasts--our bitter pasts, which eventually lead us to the life we lead now.

Or does everybody have bitter pasts like we do?

You know--past lives that are just too painful to remember that it sometimes happen that you forget?

Somehow, I don't think so.

One thing different about each of us in this sense is how we deal with our bitter pasts. One of us chose to blame himself for his bitter past, one of chose to make it his mission in life to avenge for his bitter past, one of us chose to let his bitter past remain hidden from everyone else but him, and one of us chose to--or couldn't avoid--forgetting his bitter past.

What a coincidence it was that the resolution for our bitter pasts came all in one year.

Last year.

Or was it really a resolution? Somehow, the events that took place in the past year didn't gave a resolution to me. If anything, the occurrences made everything in my life more of an enigma--something that it was not before the things that happened in the past year.

But looking on the bright side of things, at least now, I have a past.

Or some of it.

One thing I was glad for, at least, about the events of the past year, was that they at least gave resolutions to my friends' bitter pasts. I mean, even if their pasts weren't given really happy resolutions, at least everything's over and done with. They, at least, can go on with their lives in peace.

As for me, I know I can go on with my life, but I doubt if I'll ever have any peace.

"Omi, take charge of the cash register a moment, will you? Aya and I will just go out and get some soil." Ken-kun's voice interrupted my thoughts.

"Okay." I nodded. I watched as the two of them headed out the door, Ken-kun leading with the swift strides of an athlete and Aya-kun bringing up the rear.

I remember Ken-kun telling me once about a friend he had back when he was in the Japanese Soccer League. This person's name was Koichirou Kase and for the longest time, Ken-kun treated him as a best friend. But in due time, Ken-kun realized that Kase, whom he thought was his best friend, never was.

It hurt him a lot, and for the longest time he blamed himself for being stupid enough not to have realized it earlier because if he had, he would have been able to spare his own future--his life. But now, it was too late.

I think he still feels that was sometimes. I guess it's just normal that when something like that happens, the person most affected would think it was his fault that somehow everything that happened, well--happened. Especially for someone like Ken-kun.

__

"I don't choose my friends, Omi. And for one time in my life, that became my weakness."

He always said that his friends became his friends because they -did-. He said there was no reason why.

But everything has a reason. At least, that's what I think. Just as every problem has a resolution.

Speaking of resolutions, Ken-kun's resolution came to him last year, when he found Kase again. Some time after he found Kase again, he finally realized how wrong he was to trust the guy. Guess who finally made him realize that?

Kase himself.

And that was the time when he blamed himself for the mistake he had made. Two mistakes, he said. The first one was, trusting Kase, and the other--realizing his mistake all too late.

__

"I did realize my mistakes, Omi, but what good can it do now that everything's too late?"

But no, nothing's ever too late…

__

"Now I don't even have a life. If only I can undo my actions…"

It -is- true that whatever is done cannot be undone, but there is another thing that's as true as that. It's this: the existence of something called retribution. For some, retribution means punishment, while for others, it can mean a second chance. 

That was why he didn't die that time in the warehouse and that time when Kase tried to kill him--because he was given a second chance to live and build his future.

As for mistakes…

__

"Two mistakes, Omi. Two mistakes, and that cost everything for me."

A mistake to have a friend?

A mistake to trust in someone?

That wasn't so. If anyone made a mistake, it was Kase. All Ken-kun did was accept him and trust him as a friend--Kase did the rest. As for his death, Kase brought that to himself. I think he had that coming for him in a long time.

"Yo, kid, you're drowning the petunias." Yohji-kun's voice broke my reverie.

"Oh." I finished watering the last row of petunias and went over to the row of sunflowers also by the front. I concentrated on watering a particular area on the corner that doesn't seem to get enough nourishment. I think it's hardly noticed and constantly overlooked because of its location. But one thing I learned about plants is to never leave a single leaf, petal, branch or root uncared for.

Why? Well, because if you do, then it's as if you never cared for the whole plant at all. If you continue to miss a spot every time, pretty soon the whole plant will die, and it will be because of that one spot you missed. It's sort of like getting a cut on your finger: the cut is only on your finger, but you can actually feel the pain of it all over your body. Or like the water rippling effect: when you throw a stone in a basin of water, the effect reverberates in the whole basin and not just in the area where you threw the stone. Or like a stack of dominoes: if you push one, and it falls, all the others follow.

Simply put: one single solitary spot matters.

It's the same thing with plants. One should never miss taking care of a single petal, leaf, branch, or root of a plant, because, as I said, if a single part or area dies, the others will soon follow until eventually the whole plant dies. It's best to remember that you have to be fair if you care about something. Never leave anyone out, no matter where it is, and no matter how little it may be. It kind of goes a little something like, "if you care, be fair."

I think this analogy also works for people. People are like plants. Better yet, people are like parts of a plant--some are petals, some are roots, some are branches, some are leaves. When you care for a lot of people, you have to care for all of them equally--see that everyone gets whatever one gets, see that no one ever gets left out, no matter where he is situated or no matter how small he is--that kind of thing.

"Incoming!" A loud shout from outside caught my attention. I looked out and saw Aya-kun and Ken-kun struggling with two sacks of soil, one for each of them.

I quickly put down the sprinkler I was holding and opened the door. Both their hands were quite occupied and struggling with the sacks, so I figured they needed someone to open the door for them.

"Thanks, Omi," Ken-kun wheezed, dragging one of the sacks in.

"Took you long enough," Aya-kun wheezed, dragging in the other sack.

Yohji-kun stopped talking to the girls who came in earlier and peered at the two of them from his sunglasses. "What is the deal with you two coming in the front door?"

Aya-kun stopped for a moment and glared at him. "Nice, Yohji. Very nice. How about saying, 'can I help?'"

Yohji-kun raised an eyebrow. "Why would I want to do that? I'll mess up my new jacket."

"Yohji…" Ken-kun warned.

If looks could kill, Yohji-kun would be dead by now, the way Aya-kun was glaring at him. "In case -you'd- like to know, some -idiot- decided to place these sacks in the storehouse on the right where the nearest place to bring them in here is through the front door." Aya-kun said pointedly.

"Really?" Yohji-kun said innocently. "Now I wonder who would do such a stupid thing?" he added, grinning at Aya-kun.

"Wouldn't we -all- like to know," Aya-kun muttered as he continued dragging the sack to the back. "Dumbass."

"Aya, simmer down," Ken-kun muttered, trying to calm Aya-kun down.

Of the four of us, Aya-kun and Ken-kun have the shortest temper. Meaning to say, they get angry at the littlest things. But between the two of them, Ken-kun is easier to handle because he doesn't get angry too long at anybody, and he's also very vocal about it.

Aya-kun is a different story. He's short-tempered, but he usually kept his anger to himself. And for that reason, his anger has the tendency to be prolonged, until the time comes when everything inside him just blows. Which is one way of saying that, at least, in my opinion, his anger--the quiet anger, is the more dangerous type of anger. But lately, he's becoming more vocal about it.

Aya-kun is a perfect example of a plant that lacks watering. At least, in his opinion. He's one good example of a plant that lacks care.

Care from whom, you ask?

__

"That day when my parents were killed and my sister went into a coma--that was the day I stopped believing in God, Omi. He deserted me."

That was what he said to me then. A year ago, right after he, along with Ken-kun and Yohji-kun, saved me from the crutches of Takatori Hirofumi, my brother.

As I have said regarding our pasts, one of us chose to blame himself for his bitter past--this is Ken-kun. One of chose to make it his mission in life to avenge for his bitter past--this one's Aya-kun. His past had something to do with what happened to him and his family before he became Weiß.

As for the other two I forgot to mention--that comes later.

Neither Ken-kun nor Yohji-kun knew the whole story of what happened to Aya-kun and his family before he joined Weiß. I think only Uncle Shuuichi knew what really happened. As for me, I only know what Aya-kun has told me.

__

"It was Aya's sixteenth birthday that day. We were on our way home, but when we got to our house…" his voice trailed off._ "What waited for us were two corpses. Our parents. They were dead. Murdered," _he added flatly.

__

"We thought then, things couldn't get any worse.

"Until I heard something. I had a bad feeling, so I shouted to Aya, 'get out of here, fast!' and I started to run out, too…but I almost didn't make it. There was an explosion. I got half-buried in debris. Aya was able to get out whole.

"She started to walk towards me, to help me up. Then there was…" he paused._ "A pair of headlights that zoomed in…and hit her, flat out. I was devastated._

"Before the car that hit Aya got away, I caught a glimpse of the person inside it. Takatori Reiji…" he said this in between clenched teeth, _"that was the last thing I saw before I lost consciousness._

"When I woke up, I was in a hospital. I was told that Aya was in a coma and my parents…" Pain flashed across his face._ "My parents were dead. I knew that. Since then, I vowed to myself that I would avenge my parents' death and kill the person who stole the smile away from my sister. Now she's just lying there, practically lifeless…_

"I planned that even before your Uncle Shuuichi came up to me and asked me to become one of you. He just gave me more hope, that's all."

That was his selfish reason for joining Weiß. Vengeance--that was what he wanted.

Then.

Last year, our last mission that Uncle Shuuichi gave us before he literally breathed his last breath was to kill Takatori Reiji--Takatori Reiji, who was, incidentally, his older brother, and my father.

That's right. My father.

We were able to complete that mission shortly after Uncle Shuuichi died. Aya-kun delivered the final killing blow at him.

Back then, Aya-kun thought his problems were over, because the vengeance he so wanted had been served. But then, he realized he had another problem.

His sister was still in a coma.

Shortly after Takatori Reiji's death, some new enemies kidnapped Aya-kun's sister, wanting to use her for their own selfish purposes.

The first to kidnap her was a group of women known as Schreient who wanted to avenge their boss, Takatori Masafumi's death, by killing us, because we killed him. Takatori Masafumi, incidentally, was Takatori Reiji's second son.

They were sadly killed by another group who was the second and last to kidnap Aya-kun's sister. This group was known as Schwarz, who used to serve Takatori Reiji but actually worked for the group known as SZ who wanted to rule the world.

We fought them all, and many times we almost lost, but something kept us going. In all due time, we defeated both Schwarz and SZ, and right after that, Aya-kun's sister woke up from her coma.

Right after that mission, I had thought Aya-kun was going to quit being Weiß, but he stayed on.

As for his sister…

__

"She'll be alright without me. It's better for us not to be together. I don't want her to know that her brother's been killing people the whole time she was in a coma. She'll be heartbroken."

Together with Tomoe Sakura, this girl who was in love with Aya-kun, his sister (or Aya-chan) was sent to Paris on boarding school. When she didn't have school, she stayed with Sakura in her house. Aya-kun pays for her tuition, and he made Sakura promise not to tell Aya-chan that his brother was an assassin and that the money he uses to pay for her tuition came from his job. The only thing Aya-chan knew was that her brother was a flowershop clerk, and that was how he manages to send her to school abroad.

In my opinion, though, he can't keep that secret from her forever. Sooner or later, she's going to know, because, from what I surmised of their relationship as brother and sister, sooner or later she's going to want to see him.

But as much as I try to tell him that, Aya-kun's one of those people who are hard as steel when they decide to do something.

__

"I know what I'm doing, Omi. Don't try to tell me what I should and should not do."

Who am I to decide for him, anyway?

Sometimes, it seems, he sees us only as co-workers and not as friends who care for him and friends whom he cares for. But I know he -does- care for us. And talking about care, later on, I asked him if he still doesn't believe in God, because that's such a big revelation…

__

"I had thought then that He had forgotten me, but now I realize that he never had. He never forgot me. I was still alive and he gave me that so I can get a second chance at everything…you guys are a part of that, I guess."

He hardly speaks like that, but when he does…you'll really know that he cares. It's just that he's not very demonstrative.

Speaking of being demonstrative…

"I'm going to hit him in front of those girls, I swear to God I will," Aya-kun muttered darkly. "That stupid dumbass chickenshit…"

"Hey, hey, hey," Yohji-kun said mockingly. "What's that I hear? My, my, Aya…you are getting to be my kind of bird…" he placed an arm around Aya-kun's shoulder. "See this, girls, Aya's learning to swear! And -loudly-, at that! It's like…what's that thing when my traits get passed on to someone because we spend too much time together?" He asked me.

"Uh…osmosis?" I said hesitantly.

"Yeah, that's it," he said, giving me a big grin and giving Aya-kun a playful punch. I don't think he's actually aware that Aya-kun's fuming so much smoke was practically coming out of his ears.

"Yohji…" Ken-kun warned. "I don't think Aya's getting any of your jokes."

"Oh?" Yohji-kun raised an eyebrow. He peered at Aya-kun, who was glaring at him murderously. "Hmm, you look like you could use a cold bath," he remarked.

"Can't you just f**king say that you were the one who placed the sacks in the right storehouse?" Aya-kun said in between clenched teeth.

"Ohhh, is that what this is all about?" Yohji-kun said cheerfully. "Then where should I have put them? In the wrong storehouse?"

The girls giggled at his joke.

"That's so lame, Yohji," Ken-kun and I said at the same time.

Meanwhile, Aya-kun seethed some more…until he couldn't hold it any longer. He gave Yohji-kun a swift punch straight in the face, then he stormed out towards the basement.

Yohji-kun staggered down, but I could see he was laughing. "Oh, Jesus, that hurt," he wheezed, laughing as he checked out his face in his pocket mirror.

For some reason, the girls he was talking to earlier left.

__

Probably got scared of Aya-kun's temper.

"Yohji-kun, why did you have to do that?" I gave a sigh. "What is it with you and Aya-kun annoying each other?"

"He doesn't annoy me, for your information," he answered. "As for my teasing him a little, he could use it. He needs to lighten up a little. Now look at that," he pointed to the basement door, "I was only teasing him. He gets angry so easily. He should try to be like Ken here," he pointed to Ken-kun who was checking up the cash register, "now pretty boy here -does- have a temper, but at least he's learning to be calm. As for the redhead, he needs to stick his head in the freezer and cool of a bit. As for you, kid," he gave me a grin, "I don't have a problem with your temper. With your socializing abilities, however, that's another story. As I've told you again and again, -you- have a lot to learn with regards to talking to girls."

"I told you, Yohji, I'm okay--" I began.

"Now, now," he interrupted. "I've told you plenty of times, you have to talk a bit more. How will you ever find yourself a girlfriend? You have the looks. You have the height now, but I'm telling you, there's more to being a guy than being five foot eleven."

I rolled my eyes.

"There. See? There's that eye-rolling again." He shook his head.

I sighed with resignation. The way he was talking, you'd think he was hired by someone to be my socializing adviser.

There is nothing wrong with the way I talk to girls. It is perfectly fine, in my opinion. But Yohji-kun seems to think I need a lot more help in talking to girls.

Not that I'm not grateful. It's just that getting a girlfriend isn't the most important thing in my life right now. Life, school, and just recently, getting all my past back--those are the most important things to me right now.

Speaking of pasts, and of Yohji-kun, what I said--that one of us chose to let his bitter past remain hidden from everyone else but him--I'm talking about Yohji-kun.

Just like Aya-kun and Ken-kun, Yohji-kun's resolution to his bitter past came to him last year. But that comes later.

Yohji-kun has never really told any of us what has happened in his past. I only knew what happened from reading his file that was stored in Kritiker's database. I was able to gain access because as Weiß's researcher, Manx and Birman allowed me to use Kritiker's files. According to the file, Yohji-kun grew up in an orphanage. When he was eighteen, he left the orphanage in search of a job, and that's when he met Murase Asuka who was then a private detective. He, too, became a private detective and for two years, the two of them worked together in one case after another.

The last mission they had worked on was at the Ryotto Corporation. Unfortunately, their investigations never got completed because Yohji got shot. Later on, because he was wounded, Asuka went by herself and ended up getting herself killed in the process.

I forgot to say that I asked Yohji-kun about this sometime after Weiß took a mission that involved the Ryotto Corporation. He wouldn't say much, but he told me all I needed to know.

__

"I was shot. I told her to leave me, but she wouldn't do that. Not Asuka. But I insisted. So she ran out and…" A swallow._ "Sometime later I heard gunshots. I knew she was dead. After that…I fainted."_

The rest of that story, I knew firsthand. Just like with Ken-kun, I went to take care of him in the hospital when he was healing. The, I took him to Kitten, and briefed him the way I did with Ken-kun. Then he accepted the offer to be Weiß's third member.

I think he agreed to be Weiß so that he could avenge his partner, Asuka's death. I don't know what to think of that, but it really made me think…

It turned out that I didn't have to think. The events after the death of Takatori Reiji told the rest.

The Schreient women--or one of them in particular gave all the answers to the questions that have been lurking in my mind, but I didn't want to ask.

Or one question in particular.

Who was Murase Asuka in Yohji-kun's life?

On one of our missions, we fought with the Schreient women, and we ended up capturing one of them--the one called Neu.

It turned out that Neu was Asuka, only she'd forgotten.

-And- it turned out that she and Yohji-kun were lovers during their detective days.

Yohji-kun thought she and Asuka were finally reunited. 

Or it was probably wishful thinking in his part. But…

__

"I love her. And now that I've found her again, I'm not letting her go. Dammit, can't you guys understand that?"

Neu's coming into Yohji-kun's life caused a lot of tension among us. She was, after all, one of the enemies.

__

"I trust her. She says she knows where they are hiding."

We decided to take our chances. After all, even if we didn't trust Neu, we trusted Yohji-kun, and if he trusted Neu, then…

We took our chances and listened to Neu, only to find out we've fallen into Schreient's trap.

But we weren't about to give up. Being in the enemy's lair makes us more motivated--this kind of situation hastens the flow of adrenaline in our bodies and makes us stronger than usual.

At least, stronger physically. I don't know how Yohji-kun managed to get through that day, knowing the only woman he ever really loved betrayed him.

But get through it he did. He fought Neu. The two of them fought. He and Neu--not he and Asuka, because she wasn't Asuka anymore. She was a whole new different person.

It was sad, but Yohji-kun eventually killed her.

He had to.

As he gripped the wires tightly around her neck, I saw the tears in his eyes.

__

"Takatori Masafumi…I…love…you…"

Her last words, before she drew her last breath.

Yohji-kun lay her down before we escaped the collapsing building. The three other Schreient women escaped before we did.

When we got out, I heard Yohji-kun's suppressed sobs.

He didn't even want to share his grief then, but I was able to talk to him afterwards.

__

"Murase Asuka died, two years ago. The person who died in that building…was someone I don't know."

Those were his words. His only words.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Looking at him, you wouldn't think he had that kind of a past--very bitter and very sad. But I think he's trying to hide all his sadness under a cheerful and good-natured mask.

Oh, and I forgot to mention--cheerful, good-natured, and womanizing mask.

I don't know if his being a womanizer had anything to do with Asuka, but a womanizer he was. And I think he wants me to follow in his footsteps, which is why he's acting like someone hired him to be my socializing adviser.

"Speaking of girls," Yohji-kun placed his hand on top of my head. "Did you see that girl again? You know--at the Police Main?"

I looked at Ken-kun suspiciously, wondering if he'd told Yohji-kun.

He shrugged helplessly. "He wormed it out of me."

"So, did you see her again?" Yohji-kun asked eagerly.

I rolled my eyes at him. "No. No, I didn't."

"Oh, too bad," he remarked. "From what pretty boy here told me, you said you were tongue-tied at the sight of her. She must be quite a knockout to capture the attention of Tsukiyono Omi at first glance." He teased.

I looked away. _Admit it, Omi. She -was- a knockout,_ I thought, recalling the incident three days ago. I remember she had really long dark hair and big dark blue azure eyes framed by long dark lashes. She had ivory-white skin, in contrast to her really dark hair. I don't know if she was tall, but she sure looked like it.

I mean, she looked like she had long legs. I wouldn't know for sure because she was sitting on the bench when we saw each other. She wore dark blue clothes that set off her eyes and skin even more.

Anyway, looks aside, I -know- I've seen her before--but where and when, I just can't pinpoint it.

"So how'd she look like?" Yohji-kun persisted.

"I already said she was beautiful."

"I know that already. Describe her. Hair color?"

"Black. I think."

"Length?"

"Long. I'd say about waist-length. And straight, though I'm not so sure…"

"Eyes?" Ken-kun added that one.

"Dark blue."

"Big?"

"Yeah."

"How big?" Yohji-kun pressed.

"I don't know!" I said impatiently.

"Well…okay, obviously you're not very observant. How tall?"

"I don't know, she was sitting on the bench when I saw her--"

"Nevermind that," Yohji-kun interrupted. "Guess."

"Well…pretty tall."

"About five foot…seven?" Ken-kun said, his eyes at the door. He gave Yohji-kun a nudge.

"Holy…shit," Yohji-kun muttered. "Omi, was she wearing, uhm…dark blue clothes?"

"Yeah."

"As in short dark blue skirt, dark blue boots, dark blue top?"

"Yeah."

"And her hair…tied back by a dark blue ribbon?"

"Yeah! How did you know that?" I asked in disbelief. "Yohji-kun?"

He didn't answer. He just continued to stare out the door.

__

What the heck was so interesting outside?

"Omi…turn around and look out the door," Ken-kun told me, not taking his eyes off the door.

"Why?" I turned around. "What's going on? Why are you looking out the…" I stopped mid sentence when I saw where their gazes where locked on to.

Or, more correctly, -to whom- their gazes where locked on to. I looked

And I saw…

__

Her!

And that's when I started coughing, for some reason. "I need to get some water." I muttered.

I started to head out, but a pair of hands stopped me. "You're staying right here."

I coughed again. "But Yohji-kun…" I whined. _No, I am not looking out there. I am not looking out again. I. Am. Not. Looking. Out. There. Again._ A hand moved my head, and I looked. I gave a hard swallow.

Her.

__

What is -she- doing here? I gave another cough.

"Omi, is that her?" Ken-kun asked.

"Guessing from the way you just reacted, I'm guessing, yeah, that's her alright." Yohji-kun said dryly. "Hey, kid, want me to go talk to her? I'll ask her name for you."

"Yohji-kun…" But Yohji-kun was already on his way to her.

She was looking at the row of roses at the outside front.

"Hi," Yohji-kun said with a grin. "You need any help?"

She gave him a small smile. "No, thanks. I'm just looking around." She headed outside and checked out the row of forget-me-nots near the door.

Yohji-kun followed her. "Uh, you like that?" He pointed to the blue flowers.

"Uh-huh." She nodded.

"Uhm…you can have it for free! Six pieces. Half a dozen." He offered.

She gave a small laugh. "No, thanks. I can pay for it." She brought out her purse and counted some money. "How much?"

"A yen and a date would be nice." Yohji grinned again.

She laughed again. "No, thanks. I don't date guys I don't know."

"Well, then…I'm Kudo Yohji. Now how about that date?"

She shook her head. "Nope. Sorry."

Yohji gazed at us and mouthed, "I'm not giving up." He turned back to her. "You know…I've got this weird feeling that we've met before," he grinned. "Do I know you?"

She looked up at him and gave another smile. "I don't think so."

"Oh come on…I'm serious! We -have- met before!" He insisted.

She shook her head. "Oldest pickup line in the book." Then, she turned away from him and went over to the daisies.

I glanced at Yohji. He looked pretty insulted. "Next time," he muttered. Nothing makes his temper flare than when girls turn him down. He went over to Ken-kun and me. He glared at me. "Let's see if you have any luck with her, kid," he took me by my shoulders and pushed me towards her.

"Ow! Yoh~ji!" I groaned as I almost lost my balance and fell in front of her. Fortunately, I managed not to make a fool of myself. "Uh…hi," I said uncertainly, giving her a small smile. "Uh…haven't I seen you somewhere before?" I added tentatively.

She smiled. "Probably."

"Really?" I said hesitantly. "Where?"

She shrugged. "Wouldn't -you- know?" She directed my question back to me.

"Well…" I paused, not knowing what to say. "Uh…what would you like to buy?"

"Ask her name."

"What? Did you say something?" I asked.

She shook her head. "I think he did." She pointed to Yohji-kun.

He rolled his eyes.

She shrugged. "I'd like to get a dozen forget-me-nots and a dozen lilies."

"Oh…okay." I gave Ken-kun a look. He came over to help me.

"Yohji said, 'ask her name'. " He whispered as he wrapped up a dozen lilies. "Come on, Omi," he added as he handed her the flowers.

"That and forget-me-nots, right?" I smiled at her, ignoring Ken-kun.

She smiled brightly. "Uh-huh."

"Here you are." I gave her the flowers and she handed me the money. My eyes met hers for a moment.

__

Those eyes…

Where have I seen those eyes before?

"You really look familiar." I muttered.

She smiled again. "Back at you." She gave me a wave. "Thanks. And bye." She started to walk out.

"Hey!" I called out as she left. She turned around. "Tokyo Police Main That's where I saw you!" I said.

"Same thing!" She gave me another wave as she left.

I stared and watched as she left.

__

Who is she?

"O~mi!!! You know, for a smart genius eighteen-year-old with a 4.0 average, you sure are stupid." Yohji-kun went over to me and slapped my head, bringing me back to reality.

"Ow! Watch where you hit me! My humors might get shaken!" I groaned, rubbing my head.

"Humors?" Ken-kun looked bewildered.

"Brain fluids," I explained. "According to this Greek guy whose name I forgot, the brain contains several fluids which control our behavior, namely--"

"Omi, why the f**k didn't you ask her name?" Yohji-kun interrupted.

I didn't ask her name?

__

Oh, yeah.

"I…guess I forgot," I said slowly. "Why?"

"Dumbass," he muttered. "Hel~lo??? Beautiful girl, prospective girlfriend?"

"I told you, I don't need a--"

"What? You think your humors can pass for a beautiful female human being?"

"I didn't say that."

"Then get it through your head! Next time, ask her name, get it? Ask.her.name! As in 'hi, I'm Omi and you're-?' Is that so hard? Don't ever forget it! Ask. Her. Name! Ask. Her.--"

"Hey, you mind toning it down a bit, dumbass? I'm trying to do something productive here!" Aya-kun growled out from the basement.

"So sorry, your Majesty!" Yohji-kun shouted back.

"Yohji, why are you trying so hard to hitch Omi, anyway? If he doesn't want to, he doesn't want to." Ken-kun said.

"Look, pretty boy," Yohji-kun said, putting an arm around Ken-kun, "unlike you with your girlfriend who went to Antarctica--"

"Australia," Ken-kun corrected.

"Whatever. Anyway, unlike you and that girl who drinks Frock--"

"Freud. And that's not in production anymore."

"Whatever. All I'm saying is, the kid needs to lighten up a bit too," he shrugged. "Oh, I'm not saying it should be a lot. He should just, you know--get a girlfriend, go on a date, kiss her, that's enough. I mean, he doesn't have to have sex with her or anything--"

"Yoh~ji!"

"What? He's eighteen for godsakes!" Yohji-kun pointed out. "Okay, he can have sex with her if he wants to--"

"Yohji, can you just shut the f**k up?" Ken-kun told him. "Omi?"

"I'm ignoring him," I told Ken-kun. _Why didn't I ask her name?_

"Okay, since you're obviously not listening, I'll 'shut the f**k up' as pretty boy here says." Yohji-kun said.

"Thank goodness for that." I muttered.

"I'm still wondering one thing, though," Yohji-kun continued," how come the 'haven't I seen you somewhere before' pickup line works for you? She didn't buy it when I said it."

"The difference between you and me, Yohji-kun," I said to him matter-of-factly, "is that for you, it's a pickup line. For me--it's not, and she knew that."

"Well, okay. If you say so. But I still think I've seen her before." He said under his breath.

"Oh, give it up!" Ken-kun and I said in unison.

He grinned. "Kidding, kidding."

*~*~*~*~*~*

Later that night, I had a hard time falling asleep.

The same as that night when I first saw her.

I groaned, then I shifted and lay down on my side. _Who the heck is she?_

Who is this girl I can't seem to get off my mind?

Why can't I get her off my mind?

I shifted and lay on my back again.

I must have fallen asleep.

__

"Mamoru, don't go too far back! The water's deep over there!" A woman called out to me.

__

"Mama, look! Waterbirds!" I shouted gaily.

Did I just call her "Mama"?

__

"Mamoru, those are ducks. Mamoru, don't go over there, the water's too deep for you there!"

"Mamoru!" A male voice.

__

"Uncle Shuuichi, look! Ducks!" I shouted.

Uncle Shuuichi?

__

"Mamoru, swim back here! Your Mama prepared something for you. It's chocolate, and it's very good!"

"Chocolate! Yippee! Chocolate! Chocolate! " I splashed in the water again and again. _"Chocolate! I want chocolate! I want--" _What was happening? I was sinking. _"Mama--" _A cough. _"Mama, I'm--I'm--" _Deeper, and deeper…

__

"Mamoru?" A splash. _"Oh, God, NO! MAMORU!" _Was that woman I called "Mama" calling? What was going on? Why was it suddenly getting so dark?

__

"MAMORUUUU!!!!" That was the last voice I heard, then…

"Huh!" I awoke with a start. I coughed out water.

Wait…_I coughed out water?_

Good Lord…was I drowning in my dream?

I felt my bed behind me. Everything was wet…with my sweat, I assumed.

__

Good Lord…everything was so real…

Uncle Shuuichi…Mama…

This was a dream unlike any I've had before.

I mean, -before- the day I saw her, that is.

__

But why would she be the one to trigger this? Why?

Who is she?

That night when I first saw her…the dream I had then was similar to this one, except that I wasn't drowning. Instead, I was climbing a tree and I remember falling…then I never got to the part when I hit the ground, because that's the time when I wake up.

But in that dream, I was the only one there. No Uncle Shuuichi, no Mama.

Yesterday, I dreamt I was falling down the stairs…but I never get to the part when I hit the ground.

The day before that, I dreamt I was riding a bike, then I ran through this path and stumbled and fell…but I never remembered falling down.

__

Strange.

Really very strange.

I got up and went into the kitchen to get some water. Then I sat down at the kitchen table and thought.

What about? Well, my dreams, mainly…and her.

__

Her.

Her eyes…big, deep blue…and familiar. _Very familiar._

Where have I seen her before?

When?

I gave a long sigh.

__

I wonder if she'll come back here at the shop.

I gave a little smile.

__

I hope she does.

I grinned at my glass of water.

__

When she comes back, I'll ask her name.

I nodded decisively.

__

Yes, that's right. Tsukiyono Omi. You're going to ask what her name is.

I raised the glass and made an imaginary toast.

__

To asking her name.

I drank and took a swallow.

__

And to giving her mine.

I put the glass down on the table and got up.

__

Maybe then I'll be able to find out a little bit more about what's been going on in my life.

I went back up to my room and sat down on my bed.

__

Who knows…maybe one of these days I can take Yohji-kun's advice and ask her out on a date.

I grinned slightly to myself.

__

At least, that's if I see her again…

And that's a big IF.

I shrugged and closed my eyes and lied down.

__

Be hopeful, Tsukiyono Omi. That's what you're famous for. Don't be so pessimistic. That's Ken-kun's specialty.

And don't try to be a cynic about it…you might end up like Aya-kun.

I smiled with my eyes closed.

__

And don't try to be so much of a Casanova. You've seen Yohji-kun going at it with her and you know it's not going to work. Not that you'd look anywhere as good as Yohji-kun, if you try to be a Casanova, anyway.

Just be yourself, Omi. Be your lovable, "smart eighteen-year-old with a 4.0 average" self as Yohji-kun says.

Maybe she'll like you for that.

Hopefully, she will.

And maybe, I added to that thought again, _you'd get some answers about your past…finally._

Maybe I can finally go on with my life in peace.

That's a good thought.

__

Thanks to her.

I pondered thoughtfully on that last note.

_Her._

**End notes:**  
  
Weird ending. =) 

Just a quick note here: I'm really not that sure if everyone in both Schwarz and Weiss will get a chance to narrate their own chapter(s). According to my drafts (so far) a couple of the characters who won't get to narrate are...Farfello (I've had a difficult time figuring out how his mind works) and, quite possibly, Crawford. I'm still thinking about the Crawford bit. It really depends on how the story will go, so** Tisay**, I hope that answers your question. Well..no, actually, it doesn't. *sweatdrop* Anyway, you'll know in a couple of weeks (I hope).

Very big thanks to everyone who reviewed the previous chapter. I hope you liked this one! Chapter 4 will be up next week (as always). It will be in...well...I'll let you guess whose POV it is in. =)  
  
Reviews will be very much appreciated.


	4. Chapter 4 Me, and Her

**A Few Good Men  
**  
_Ring around the rosies,  
Pocket full of posies.  
Ashes to ashes,  
We all fall down.  
We all fall down.  
_  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
**_Chapter 4--Me, and Her  
_**  
_It's coming towards you, kid.  
  
What is?  
  
The moth.  
_  
I looked around me. _Where?_ I gave Schrudich a suspicious glance.  
  
Sure enough. He gave me a teasing grin. _Gotcha._  
  
I gave him a dirty look.  
  
He gave me another grin, then he looked over at Crawford and gave a yawn. _ Bo-ring._  
  
I ignored him and looked at Crawford expectantly. Not that I expected he would actually say anything, because he normally doesn't do that. But then, as of right now, circumstances are pretty out of the ordinary.  
  
Like, for example, his hailing all of us here—that's a strange thing, since he normally doesn't do that. And then, there's the fact that for some reason, he was home even if it was still early—something about that is strange. And since he didn't usually call us all together in this room during the mornings, something about that was strange, too.  
  
-And- since he didn't usually call for meetings with people other than Schrudich, Farfello, and I, something about that was also strange.  
  
Not too far back, about a year ago, when this man named Takatori Reiji, whom we worked for, was still alive, we—Crawford, Schrudich, Farfello, and I—collectively known as Schwarz—used to, on a regular nighttime basis, hold our meetings right here, in this room, on the fourth floor of the SZ mansion. This is a room big enough to house the whole downstairs living room, but in contrast to the physical appearance of the living room, this room is pitch-black, and it holds a certain outer space sort of exterior.  
  
Normally, we would all go here, summoned by Crawford. He would be standing right across this oval-shaped glass table and leaning on the wall. Schrudich would be sitting on a chair beside the table and his elbow would be resting on top of the table. Farfello would be standing at the corner opposite the door, and I would be sitting either on the sofa opposite from where Crawford was, or beside the computer near the sofa.   
  
And then, we would all stay there, silent for about an hour, waiting. Actually, we never have any meetings that involved definite conversations or something of that kind. Our meetings usually consisted of waiting for about an hour or so.  
  
Waiting for what? Well…the next move, or something like that, I guess.  
  
Maybe one can say that this room was more of a waiting room than a meeting room. At least, for normal people, that's what it would seem. But we were never normal. I guess that's why typical meetings for us are similar to doing nothing but wait for normal people.  
  
I guess that really doesn't make much sense, does it? But that's fine. I never could make much sense of anything anyway.   
  
If there's anyone who could actually make sense of anything among the four of us, it's Crawford. For one thing, he's the oldest, and for another, he knows a lot about things. I think it's probably due to the fact that he could tell the future. I've never actually known him to have no explanation for anything. Strange as it may seem, I think he actually finds sense in everything.  
  
Or maybe I just think that because I can't really make much sense of the world around me. I don't know.  
  
As for Farfello, it's really hard to tell if he can actually make sense of the world around him. I don't think I'll ever know what he's really thinking. I never really understood him.  
  
And Schrudich? His tendency to explain things in circles makes everything all the more confusing. But then, at least he can explain them. That must mean he can at least make sense of something…right?  
  
Uh…anyway, as for me…I think I've said it already. I understand some things, but not all things. The problem with me is that there are more things in the world that doesn't make much sense to me than there are things that actually make any sense.  
  
So what does that make me? Well, as much as I think it's sad that I have to be like this, I think it's more…pathetic.   
  
I'm pathetic.   
  
I mean, the fact that I'm almost seventeen and I still can't make much sense of many things in the world, that's what makes me pathetic. And the fact that maybe I actually knew a lot more four or so years ago than I do now, -that- adds to my pathetic state.  
  
But then, four or so years ago, someone was there to actually help me make much sense of things. I sort of wish she had been around longer to help me out, but as I said, that was four or so years ago.   
  
I mean, I guess Crawford could have been the one to help me make sense of a lot of things when she left and even when she was still around, but when it's him who explains things to me, instead of making them clearer, they become more blurry.   
  
I don't know why the heck that was. Maybe it's the fact that he's a lot older than me and the fact that he and I grew up differently. I'm not sure.  
  
Where was I? Umm, yeah. Four or so years ago, I had someone younger, nearer my age and knowing my background to teach me things and help me make much sense of the world. Although we were both young and she probably couldn't make sense of the half the world back then, she made me understand a lot of things.  
  
Plenty of things, especially about life. Though I don't know how she came to know all that. But then, I didn't really know much back then, did I?  
  
She was eight and I was seven when we were separated, and then she was twelve and I, eleven when we were reunited.  
  
And then, she was fourteen and I was thirteen when we were again separated. Back then, right before she left, I tried to keep as much as I can of the things we had shared with each other, and the things she'd tried to make sense of for my sake. In a span of two years, she was able to help me make sense of a lot of things that was probably equal to the amount of knowledge I would have gained had we been together, say, two years more.  
  
Meaning to say, those things she thought me for two years would have been equal to what I would have learned for four years. But now that I think about it, had she been around longer, I would have had something worth more than four years.  
  
If that had been the case, I should think I would be a much different person from the person I am now.  
  
But fact is, that wasn't the case. That was mostly wishful thinking on my part, because I am who I am now, and she wasn't there those four years—in those four years she was gone, a lot has happened that made me what I am now.   
  
And I had forgotten a lot of what she had thought me—a lot of things that made me what I was four years ago, and because I'd forgotten, I changed.  
  
But I never meant to forget. Two years was just a bit shorter than four years, that's all. I mean, I always thought I would be able to preserve much of what she thought me those two years. But I never understood her words back then, right before she left.  
  
_"Things will never stay the same over a period of time, Nagi. That never happens in reality. In reality, things grow. Things change. The world evolves, and as it does, so should you. To evolve would mean to adapt to the changes around you. But remember, you must never forget everything you've learned since you were young. You must learn, but never forget your past learning, for if you do that, you will never understand the changes going on around you. Never forget. Keep these in mind: the key to understanding is remembering...and feeling. You must feel. You're the only one who can do that, Nagi. When I leave, I won't be able to do that for you. No one will do that for you. No one but you. Understand?"  
_  
No, I never understood what she meant by what she said, but I nodded in understanding anyway.  
  
I guess maybe I should have asked her what she meant then. Maybe if I had, I wouldn't be as pathetically senseless as I am now.  
  
_But she's here now, isn't she…?_ A voice inside me asked.   
  
I gave a little sigh. I wonder…would it be too late if I ask her about what she said back then…and what it meant…now?  
  
_Is anything ever too late? _I thought that to myself as I gazed at my sister with hopeful eyes. My sister, Futora Naoe—she who taught me everything, but in vain, for I ended up losing most of it.  
  
She, who left me, four years ago, and came back only now—now that a lot of things has happened.  
  
Do I blame her for what happened to me? No, I don't. Not really. It was my fault, for not understanding, but still, I just wish she didn't leave me alone…  
  
_But she's back now, isn't she…?_ That same voice inside me. I looked over at my sister again.  
  
She was sitting on a chair beside the side of the table across from Schrudich.  
  
-She- was the only person other than Schwarz who was in the room right now. Her presence here with us, as I said, was strange. I wonder why Crawford called her here with us?  
  
Why do I find her being here with us strange? First of all, my sister wasn't Schwarz. Second, she didn't have any idea of what we—Schwarz, that is—do, and third…  
  
Third, well…I just find it strange, for some reason, to have my sister around with us. Especially since I haven't seen her for four years. The way she acted, and talked, and most of all—looked, they all made it seem clear that she was different from the sister I knew before—I mean, before she left.  
  
And that's strange. What would make her different from the sister I knew before? She was still Naoe Futora. Futora Oneesan, my sister.  
  
But still, it's somehow…strange.  
  
_What's so strange about it?_ A voice suddenly spoke up inside my head.  
  
I gave Schrudich another dirty look._ I don't remember asking you to read what I'm thinking.  
_  
He shrugged, then looked over at my sister._ Don't blame me. She just wanted me to find out what's making you so worried.  
_  
That was when I noticed my sister looking over at me with a concerned expression on her face.  
  
I gave her a reassuring smile. _Tell her it's okay. I was just thinking about some things._ I said to Schrudich.  
  
He raised an eyebrow. _Why not tell her yourself, kid? Didn't you two use to read each other's thoughts?_ He gazed over at me expectantly. _Well?_  
  
I looked away. _Yeah, but…that was before.  
_  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
  
I was seven years old that time when my younger brother Makoto, my older sister Futora, and I were separated. That happened right after our parents' death.  
  
Right after they were killed. Executed, as Futora Oneesan would say.  
  
It was strange, that day when my parents were executed. I couldn't do anything, couldn't say anything. I couldn't even feel anything.  
  
I couldn't even cry even though it seemed perfectly normal for me, a seven-year-old boy, to cry when he sees his parents die.  
  
Perfectly normal.  
  
It was even stranger that one of the only things I remember about that day was when they allowed us to say goodbye to Mother and Father. That was before they were executed.  
  
I don't remember anything that happened right after that. I only remember the aftermath—right after Mother and Father died, when some people came to take us away.  
  
As for what happened in between, I don't know. I only remember that, right after saying goodbye to my parents, I was so angry that it felt like there was a storming blowing up inside of me. A storm that flashed destructive thunder, lightning and rain and destroying everything in sight, everything in this world that made my life—our lives, the living hell that it was.  
  
The next thing I knew, my sister was calling me and telling me that it was time for us to go. That was when I was able to go back to where I was.  
  
And that was when I found out that my parents were dead.  
  
Beneath the soundproof glass in that room that was so dark and sad, I looked…and saw in there, two bodies, covered from head to toe with blankets. Not my parents anymore, just two dead bodies. Dead bodies of my parents.  
  
They were dead, and I didn't even see them take their last breath. I didn't even get to say one last goodbye. I wasn't even able to shed a single tear for them, if I still had the capability to do that. Nor did I even hear Makoto's helpless cries…or my sister's, if she, too, was crying then. I wasn't even able to offer them any comfort. And we were so young then, and comfort was probably the only thing that could have eased our broken souls…if they weren't permanently damaged, that is.  
  
I didn't have time to contemplate all that, because the next thing I knew, my sister and I were being dragged out of that room to somewhere else.  
  
And then, the next thing I knew, my brother was being taken away by people I didn't know.  
  
And then, I looked over at my sister with a questioning look in my eyes, unspoken, asking, _why, where are these people taking Makoto?_  
  
She shook her head at me. _I don't know, Nagi. Let's just hope he'll be alright.   
_  
Unspoken.  
  
_Why, Oneesan? Why?_ I thought to myself, not even thinking to ask her that question directly.  
  
But surprisingly, I got an answer.  
  
_These people…-they- seem to think this is what's best for us. We're orphans now, and we don't have any other relatives but Father and Mother. This is the only way we will be able to survive._ A thought, from my sister, sent straight to my head.  
  
I don't know if she knew what we were doing.  
  
I found out, soon enough. _Will we see him again? _I thought.  
  
She looked over at me as I looked over at her. _I hope so._ She answered.  
  
And at that moment, we understood what was happening, even though it was unspoken, and even though it was un-thought.  
  
And even if we didn't know what it actually was. We only knew then that, somehow, in some way, we were able to communicate to each other without so much as a word, only thoughts sent to each other through our minds.  
  
And that was how everything started.   
  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
  
Not long after that, a man and a woman took me away, just like people took Makoto away.  
  
Right before I left with them, I made a promise to my sister. We'll see each other again, Futora Oneesan, I gazed at her for long moments, making sure to remember her face, making sure to remember -her-. I promise.  
  
She wouldn't look at me, but I understood. Even that time when Makoto left, she didn't look at him. She couldn't bear to see him leave. But for her behalf, I said goodbye to my younger brother. I prayed and hope then that he would never ever forget us. And even then I saw that tears had fallen fast on her face. I knew she couldn't look at him as she couldn't look at me now for fear that she would just cry more if she does look.  
  
But I did hear a very faint thought from her.  
  
_Goodbye._  
  
I started out to join the man and the woman who were waiting for me outside. As much as I didn't want to leave Futora Oneesan, she was the one who said –this- was probably the best thing that could happen, under the circumstances, for us to survive. I stepped out the door.  
  
_Nagi?_  
  
I turned around upon hearing that thought in my head.  
  
_No matter what happens, I –will- see you and Makoto again. I'm going to reunite the three of us, if it's the last thing I do.  
_  
She wiped her eyes and gave me a fleeting gaze. _I promise._  
  
I remember, just before he left, Makoto was crying because he didn't want to leave until he was able to say goodbye, face-to-face, to both of us. He cried for a long time because Oneesan refused to look at him. Then all of a sudden, he stopped crying, bid us goodbye, and went to join the people who adopted him.  
  
Oneesan must have given him that fleeting gaze that she had given me just now.  
  
_I promise that to you, Nagi. Just as I promised that to Makoto_.  
  
I gave a firm nod. _Goodbye, Oneesan. I'll see you again. _  
  
Then, I went out, without looking back. But as I left with the people who adopted me, I thought to myself, I'll never forget my promise to her. Just as I will never forget her promise to me.  
  
Promises.  
  
Promises were something I clung to a whole lot back then, when I was just a little kid of seven years old until before Oneesan went to Germany. But the story of that comes later.  
  
As I said, promises were something I clung to. Promises were something I lived for. My sister's promise—that we'd all be reunited someday—was something I hoped for, something I looked forward to.  
  
And at the same time, -my- promise to her—that I'd make sure we'd see each other again someday, someway, somehow—THAT kept me alive.  
  
It seems crazy that we had given each other similar promises. But I knew that for our promises to be fulfilled—that for us to be reunited again, all three of us—it would take –all- our combined efforts.  
  
And so, I knew I had to stay alive, even if only to fulfill my promise to Oneesan, and even if only to fulfill my unspoken and un-thought promise to Makoto.  
  
-And- even if only to fulfill my promise to my parents—which was—for us siblings to take care of each other, and as much as it is possible, try to stay together.  
  
Yes, I had made a promise to them, just as I'm sure my sister and brother did too. Right before my parents were taken to the execution chamber, I was able to talk to them.  
  
Unfortunately, I think I wasn't able to keep one of my promises, because right after they died, my sister and brother and I were separated.  
  
That is, -physically- separated. I had hoped that even if we weren't together physically, that we were at least together even if it's just in heart. If that were the case, then I'd know that I haven't broken my promise to Mother and Father.  
  
I never want to break any promises or even come close to breaking them, that was why I kept all the promises I had made to the people I love at heart. I made sure I remember them for every single day that I lived. More importantly, I made sure –I- lived to fulfill them, even if not immediately.  
  
I had to survive. I had to survive so I can be able to help reunite—physically as well as in heart—what's left of my family.  
  
I had to survive.  
  
I had to live, even though many people wished and tried it very hard to make sure I would die. Or even if I was alive, made sure my life was a living hell that death would be the best release from it.  
  
Death.  
  
From the time I was seven until now that I'm almost seventeen, I've been surrounded by a lot of deaths. Some of them were caused by the people around me, while some of them were caused by me.  
  
Right after Mother and Father's death, the people around Makoto, Oneesan, and I—wished death for the three of us.  
  
I don't know how I knew that, but the moment Makoto was taken away by some people, I had a feeling. But I kept it inside me, still hoping that I was wrong.  
  
And as I myself was being separated from my sister by people I didn't know, I had hoped she would be OK. And at the same time, I had hoped –I- would be OK too.  
  
And for about half a year of living with the people who adopted me, I was OK. And I was happy. At least, happy as happy could get for someone whose parents were dead and whose siblings he was separated from.  
  
For about half a year, I was pampered, given everything I wanted, sent to school, and I was treated nicely, like I was a real part of the family. The couple who adopted me weren't very old, but they had two almost grownup sons. Those two sons were like my real older brothers. Oneechans. Every single day, they brought home gifts and lots of nice things for me. My new parents, meanwhile, read me stories and gave me nice things. They even gave me a nice room to play and sleep in.  
  
I had felt like I had a whole new family, and I hoped my sister and brother were in the same condition as I was. I had a new family, and I loved this family. For every single night that first six months, I lied on my bed and thanked the heavens for giving me a new family, and repeated again and again how much I loved this new family.  
  
How I loved them.  
  
But I was a child of seven who can easily be fooled by material things, false pretenses and fake promises. And for someone who lived for promises, what happened in the next six months came upon me like a crashing blow.  
  
If only I had ears that could hear so much that even the most silent things, like the blooming of flowers or the growing of grass, then I would have been able to hear the deception being plotted behind the walls of the house that I lived in.  
  
Deception that involved me. Or should I say, deception where I was the central figure.  
  
I was the one being deceived, and I never even knew.  
  
I was just a little kid then, barely eight, and I never knew, until one day, the whole world fell upon me and what was once a world close to heaven became a living hell.  
  
One day. Or one night. It started one night, in my bedroom. Just as I was ready to go to bed, a tall figure appeared at the doorway. The next thing I knew, he was in the room—the couple's eldest son, and he was forcing himself upon me.  
  
He was raping me, and I couldn't do anything to stop him. I couldn't do anything but cry. I cried all the tears that could have equaled the tears I could cry if the lifetime I've spent in this world was doubled.  
  
I cried myself to sleep and I don't know when he stopped doing what he was doing to me, but he was gone when I awoke.  
  
I never cried again after that.  
  
And that next day, my new life started. From earth it became a living hell. I literally became a slave to the family who adopted me. I couldn't protest. I couldn't even do anything to defend myself every time one of them feels the urge to abuse me right then and there.  
  
And abuse me they did. They did things to me that I never knew of—I only knew that every time they did those things I felt pain.  
  
And I couldn't stop them.  
  
Why?  
  
Because I loved them. They were my new family. They made my life a living hell, but still, I loved them.  
  
That was how I was able to bear living with them for the next half a year. Every single day of those six months, the cycle of living hell—the cycle of abuse in the morning and abuse in the night, went on. During the night, the two grown-up sons took turns raping me. Of course, I didn't know then that rape was rape, only that it was painful. But I don't cry anymore. I didn't know how to cry anymore. And when they stop, I don't fall asleep anymore. Not immediately. I spend the whole night thinking to myself.  
  
Even during the first six months, I spent some of my time at night thinking, mainly about Makoto and Oneesan. When I began to spend my life in living hell, I hoped and I prayed to the heavens that they weren't in the same situation I was in.   
  
I always, always hope that they would both be in much better situations than what I was in.  
  
And then, I get to thinking about my situation. _Why do I let myself be hurt like this?_ Every single night since that first night after I was raped, I wondered that. _Why do I let them do this to me? Why don't I just run away?_  
  
But I knew I couldn't do that. If I ran away, I don't know where I would go. _ Even if these people are cruel to me, at least they feed me, and I love them._  
  
Abruptly, I think about them.  
  
_Love?_  
  
_Why do I love them?  
_  
I never got answer to this question. Saying that I love them because they made my life a living hell was like saying that I wanted to die.  
  
And then, that word hovers above my head. Death. Then I start thinking the unthinkable.  
  
_Maybe it would be better if I killed myself. After all, no one's going to worry about me anyway. And if I do that, I can escape this hell of a life I'm living. No one's going to look for me anymore, anyway. No one, except…  
_  
Futora Oneesan and Makoto._ But then again, if they knew the life I'm living right now, they would probably think I'd be better off dead._  
  
_But what about my promise…?_ Whenever my thoughts take a turn to my siblings, that's when I shake the thoughts of killing myself out of my head. I knew I couldn't die just yet. I still had promises I need to keep.   
  
When I start thinking that, I knew there was only one thing left.  
  
A resolution.  
  
-My- resolution.  
  
_I can't die just yet. I have promises to fulfill._ I'm not going to break any promises._ I'll see my brother and sister again. We'll take care of each other. That's a promise._  
  
_Stay alive, Naoe Nagi. Stay alive until you reunite with them. You can't die just yet.  
_  
I fall asleep with that thought in my head.  
  
It was one year after I was adopted when my feelings for the family who adopted me changed from my loving them to hating, loathing them utterly for making my life a living hell. That, among other things.  
  
Something that I heard on the news triggered the changed of my feelings. Or not that, directly. More like something they said and did in connection to what I heard on the news—that changed my feelings for them.  
  
Or it wasn't a change of feelings, exactly. It was more like an awakening. But that comes later.  
  
That day was more than a year ago after my brother Makoto was adopted. And the news was about him.   
  
It turned out that he had run away from the couple who adopted him, leaving the couple gravely wounded from head to toe. But no fingerprints that my brother was in any way connected to whatever happened to the couple.  
  
And then, the family who adopted me said and did some things that hit a very soft spot in me. If only they'd kept their feelings and thoughts to themselves even just for a little while—that action would have been able to save their lives.  
  
But they chose to talk. And they chose to laugh. And they made fun of things that they shouldn't have made fun of in front of me.  
  
Not just things, they made fun of people.  
  
Like my brother.  
  
And I am really sorry that whatever happened on that day, happened. But I have to say that they could do anything they want freely in this world—laugh, insult, hurt, violate, among other things—as long as they direct it to me, I can endure it. And I won't complain. I would endure every single suffering—as long as it's me, and just me who gets it.  
  
But when it comes down to hurting the people I love—EVEN if it's just in words—and mocking and insulting them in front of me—that's a whole new different story altogether.  
  
_"That kid probably did it. Kids today…"  
  
"That kid ran away, didn't he? I'm positive he did it."  
  
"If I were that kid, I'd kill myself."  
  
"Yeah, I would, too. But he'd probably be too scared to do that. Poor, poor kid…if he gets caught, he'll be taken apart bit by bit…"  
_  
I heard all those insults, mocks and jeering laughs. I'm not even going to repeat what else they said. Everything made me angry.  
  
The first sign of my anger was when the TV blew up. And they continued talking. As they continued talking, I felt that it was one of those times when I wish I were deaf. But I heard everything. I heard every single word…  
  
And then everything came crashing down. I saw red. Crimson.   
  
Blood.  
  
And I got so angry at them. So angry that I wasn't able to control my anger anymore. Every single thing in the house came crashing every which way, even the four of them. Fire broke out. Hell broke loose. And I couldn't make myself stop.  
  
All the while, as everything in sight crashed and burned all over the place, memories came flashing in my head…every single physical and verbal abuse they had so kindly given me…and my anger boiled up uncontrollably until everything blazed out of control…and even then, more memories of the hell I was in continued flashing before me. And then, my awakening started.  
  
Right then and there, I knew that I never really loved them. I just gave that as an excuse to intensify the anger that had built up inside me ever since that day when they came to adopt me.  
  
Right then and there, I knew that the love I thought I felt was just a cover up for my real feelings. I realized then that I hated them from the very start.  
  
I hated them for taking me away from the only people left of my real family.  
  
Later on, I hated them for being nice to me for half a year, hated them for being my new family.  
  
And later on, I hated them for making almost half a year of my life as a child barely eight years old a living hell.   
  
And then later on, I hated them for insulting and mocking one of the people I love more than anything in front of me.  
  
And I couldn't stop hating them. I couldn't stop my anger even as I continually heard their screams. I destroyed everything in sight.  
  
I burned the house along with them. Every single one of them—the couple, and the two almost grown-up sons.  
  
And I didn't stop until I could no longer hear their screams, and even then, I didn't stop. I didn't stop until the whole place was completely burned into ashes.  
  
_Ashes to ashes, we all fall down.  
_  
Only thing was, they fell before I did.  
  
This was four of the first couple of deaths that surrounded me—deaths I have caused. Just as my adoptive family triggered my extreme anger, my extreme anger triggered the release of an ability I never knew I had until that day.   
  
I could move objects with my mind. And not just objects, also people. And this ability was able to turn four grownups and a big house to ashes in a span of one day. I was surprised to find out I had such kind of power, but there was no time to worry about that.  
  
After everything burned to ashes I was left standing at the center of a pile of rubble and ashes than was once my house. And I knew what that meant.  
  
I had to get away from there, as far away as possible. I don't know how, I only knew I had to get away.  
  
The next thing I knew, from that pile of ashes and rubble I saw myself standing in the middle of a grass clearing under a bridge where a small river runs through.  
  
I had teleported. But there was no time to worry about that. I was very tired, for some reason. I fell asleep in the middle of the grassy clearing right away. And when I woke up, I had felt like there was a whole new world in front of me—that my living hell had ended with the death of my adoptive family.  
  
But that was only wishful thinking. I never knew that a lot of things still lay up ahead for me. A whole lot of things. My living hell was just starting.  
  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
  
The day after I killed my adoptive family would have made my stay with them one full year. Likewise, the day after that was my eighth birthday.  
  
I spent my eight birthday in that grassy clearing under the bridge. No one celebrated with me, not even me. There was nothing to celebrate.  
  
My birthday was the second day I spent my life in that grassy clearing. I thought everything would go all right now that my adoptive family was dead. I had hoped, but I hoped in vain, for that same day I found out that my living hell continued on.  
  
When I was still with my adoptive family, as they abused me, I realized the fact that in this world, there are a lot of cruel people—people who glorified in making other people suffer. People like my adoptive family enjoyed making people like me suffer. I kept thinking that if I wasn't with them, maybe life would be much kinder and help me meet the kind of people who help those who have gone through suffering.  
  
When I came to this grassy clearing, I had hoped of meeting such kind of people. I had extreme hope, for I knew that life was kind and it would help me overcome my sufferings.  
  
But as it turned out, there were no such kinds of people. Everyone in the world were either people who make others suffer, or people who receive the sufferings.  
  
And as I lived each day in that clearing, I fully realized that it wasn't just the people around me who are cruel.  
  
Life itself was cruel. And I knew that if I wanted to survive, if I wanted to stay alive, if I wanted to be able to fulfill all the promises I made to my family, I had to be cruel too.  
  
Survival of the strongest and cruelest was the universal law there in the grassy clearing under the bridge. And there were many others like me there, too, who wished to survive. Orphans, that's what we all were. Orphans who had no place to go and no other way to survive. To be able to survive, I had to be tough. And cruel.  
  
During the first couple of days, I wasn't used to it, and I ended up getting beat up pretty badly. I couldn't even use my power. I felt too weak. But at one point, I had to keep on remembering that I had to survive in order to fulfill my promises. And that made me strong. And yes, that made me cruel.  
  
And since that day on, I survived. I got rid of everyone and everything that threatened to end my life, or stop me from surviving.  
  
I was cruel. I was merciless.  
  
And from that day on, I hardened my heart to everything around me. I was going to survive, even if it means others will die.  
  
In some unspoken way, I had vowed revenge to the world—the world that killed my parents, the world that separated me from my siblings—the world that made my existence a living hell. I vowed I would never stop until I destroy everyone and everything that caused my existence to be a hellish one.  
  
And I kept that vow inside my hardened heart, along with all the promises I have yet to fulfill.  
  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
  
For three whole years, I survived in that grassy clearing underneath a bridge. The place where I lived was just outside of Tokyo.  
  
I was a couple of months short of my eleventh birthday when a man from Tokyo went to my home. I had set myself up a tent made of materials that I stole from a store a short distance from the bridge.   
  
During that time, there were only a few of us left living under the bridge. Most have died of hunger, drowned, or killed, or some other type of death. A few of the strong ones survived. That's us.  
  
It was the month of May, late springtime. Even though I had hardened my heart to life, there was a soft spot left for my family. I still remember that May was Futora Oneesan's birthday. She would be twelve, since I would be turning eleven in a couple of months.  
  
The man who came from Tokyo had a car. He was American, and he had dark hair and eyes, and he wore glasses. He came down to my tent that day.  
  
I had just woken up, and I was staring at the river and making some leaves float and stabbing a couple of fish along the way using my ability to move objects. That's when he approached me.  
  
"Hey, kid," he said. "Are you from around here?"  
  
I looked up and glared at him. "What's it to you?"  
  
"Nothing," he said matter-of-factly. "But it can mean something to another person."  
  
I rolled my eyes, stood up and turned back to my tent with the fish I caught. "Look, Mister, if you have something to say, I have no time for it, so go away."  
  
"You don't have time for it?" He followed me to my tent. "Are you sure?" He raised an eyebrow.  
  
I glared at him again. "YES, Mister, I'm sure. Please go away. I'm having breakfast and I can't afford to share this with you."  
  
But no, he wouldn't leave me alone. "Have you been here long?" He asked.  
  
"What's it to you?" I snapped. "Mister, what do you want from me?"  
  
He shrugged. "I don't want anything from you, kid. Question is, do –you- want something from me?"  
  
He was talking in circles. "Look, Mister, are you going to leave or do I have to—"  
  
"—Use your ability to move objects on me?" He finished.   
  
I was stunned. He didn't see me do anything, but he knew I had an ability to move objects with my mind.  
  
He gave a small teasing laugh. "Yes, I know a lot about you, Naoe Nagi," he continued. "I know a whole lot. I know you went here when you were eight years old and you've been living here since. I know you killed your adoptive family using telekinesis. I know your parents were executed when you were seven in the Tokyo Police Main Building. And I know you have a younger brother and an older sister."  
  
_Who is this person?  
_  
I gave him a suspicious look. "Why do you know all those things? Who are you?" I demanded.  
  
"My name is Brad Crawford. You can call me Crawford. I know who you are, Naoe Nagi. More than you could ever know." He said.  
  
"How do you know who I am?" I persisted.  
  
"If you come with me—"  
  
"NO! I won't come with you! Answer my question!" I said angrily. Then I punched him without meaning to using my power.  
  
He composed himself. "All right, then I'll just tell your sister Futora that you can't make it to the late celebration of her twelfth birthday. How does that sound?"  
  
_My sister Futora?  
_  
"Who ARE you? How do you know my sister?" I shouted, and as I did, another blast of my anger hit him. He staggered down.  
  
He stood up and brushed the grass from his suit. "Your sister is in Tokyo, living with me and two other people. If you come with me, you can meet them."  
  
"NO! I won't come! I don't believe you! If you're telling the truth, then bring her here!" I shouted.  
  
"I can't do that," he said calmly. "I promised your sister I'll bring -you- to her."  
  
_Promised.  
_  
"Promised," I whispered. I was silent for a couple of minutes. "Hey, Mister! I'll make you a deal," I told him stiffly, "if you're lying to me, I'm going to have to kill you, and you can't refuse. Is that a deal?"  
  
"It's a deal, kid." Brad Crawford answered seriously. "But I promise you, I –am- telling the truth."  
  
I didn't say anything to that. I didn't believe him. I couldn't believe him. The only truth I know of this hellish world is that nobody tells the truth.   
  
But still, I came with him. And as I looked back at the grassy clearing under the bridge that had been my home for almost three years, little did I know that it was the last time I was going to see that clearing. When I stepped into Brad Crawford's car and drove away with him, that's when my new life started.  
  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
  
For the first time in a long while, someone who lives in this hellish world had told the truth. As soon as I stepped out of Crawford's car and followed him to that stately mansion where he lived, I realized that there –are- people in this world who existed to help other people who have suffered.  
  
Crawford was one of them. As I followed him into the garden of the mansion, I saw a flash of long dark hair…then the eyes followed.  
  
_Dark blue eyes._ Eyes that I would know instantly and forever.  
  
My sister's eyes.  
  
"Oneesan!" I shouted.  
  
And that was it.  
  
I came running towards her. She came running towards me.  
  
"Nagi!" She shouted, and then she hugged me. I hugged her back.  
  
And with that, all the ice that had hardened my heart shattered.  
  
And as we hugged each other, I couldn't cry.  
  
Neither could she, but that didn't matter. My heart wasn't hard anymore. And then I knew that nothing could ever harden my heart ever again, as long as Oneesan and I were together.  
  
Now that we were together again, it would be easier to find Makoto. And one of these days all my promises would be fulfilled.  
  
My hope was back again.  
  
As for my vow of revenge to the world that gave me a hellish existence, that was still in my heart—asleep, until such time that I can be able to make it happen.  
  
Someday.  
  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
For two years, Oneesan and I were together. We lived in the mansion of the SZ together with Schrudich, this German kid who can read minds and who's almost seven years older than me, Farfello, this Irish kid who can feel no pain and who was four years older than me, and Crawford, who can tell the future and who was twelve years older than me.  
  
I became one of Crawford's assistants, together with Farfello and Schrudich. The four of us formed what was known collectively as Schwarz. We were bodyguards of this big shot politician named Takatori Reiji. Our mission was to annihilate anyone who dares compete with him.  
  
We killed people if it was necessary.  
  
But that was fine with me. When I started living in the grassy clearing under the bridge, killing became as necessary and as essential as…as breathing. As living.  
  
As for my Oneesan, she was there. She was my constant companion, spiritual adviser, teacher, friend, sister, and something like a mother.  
  
Since we were siblings, we were always together. We were closest to each other's ages, and sometimes Farfello and Schrudich joined us. Oneesan was the one who helped me relate with these two. As for Crawford, he wasn't around often, but when he was home, he talks to me and explains things to me. That was his way of relating with me.  
  
One of the best things my sister did for me when we were together for two years was putting my faith back in life.  
  
She had told me what had happened to her those four years we were separated. Her sufferings weren't enough for her to hate life, because according to her, life is not cruel. The world is not a cruel world. What makes the world cruel is the people that surrounds it. People are the cruel ones. But, just as there are cruel people, there also exist people who are the opposite of cruel.  
  
_"And Brad, Farfello and Schrudich, are examples of that." _She had added._  
_  
She was also the one who taught me how to use my powers. The first time she used it, she said, was the first time she ever killed anyone. In that sense, we were alike.  
  
_"Those who adopted me…I killed them using telekinesis. They were trying to force themselves upon me again. After that, I knew they planned to kill me because I don't attract customers anymore. That was because anyone who uses me dies soon after. It's like I was cursed.  
  
"Anyway, I didn't burn them down. But they were trying to use these ropes on me, and they had knives. I used those against them. I strangled them; afterwards I stabbed them several times. Then I left."_ She said that matter-of-factly.  
  
She was the one who explained to me why I felt so weak after I teleported.  
  
_"It's because you've used up all your energy. The problem with us telekinetic is we have to use our powers moderately. If we use it too often, we get tired. If we don't use it too often, we can get sick. However, if we don't use it for a long time, our body can get used to it until eventually the ability disappears. Mother told me that it would come naturally for us to have those powers because she did. Remember?"  
_  
Yes, I remembered how Mother used to float Makoto and I in the middle of the ocean. We looked down in the water while she floated and watched the sea creatures swim.  
  
The last of the best things my sister gave me was my hope. When I was by myself in that grassy clearing for three years, I gave up hope of finding them again. But when I found her, that hope came back.   
  
Of course, Oneesan and I can still talk to each other through our minds. Schrudich said this was telepathy, similar to his power; the only difference was that this was two-way, meaning; only Oneesan and I can read each other's thoughts.   
  
And with this ability, Oneesan was able to teach me a lot of things.  
  
For two years, my sister taught me a lot. Mainly, about life. Living with Crawford, Schrudich and Farfello made her a lot wiser, because, even if it seems strange to me, in their own ways, they have taught her a lot. And she shared all her knowledge to me. And though sometimes I don't get some of them, I was nevertheless thankful.  
  
Of course, one thing I would never ever forget was the fact that she made me change my outlook of the world entirely.  
  
_"The law of the world is not survival of the strongest and the cruelest. But you have to be tough, although tough doesn't exactly mean you have to be cruel. Life is hard, but it isn't cruel. The world isn't cruel. You just have to know how to adjust. You have to know how to evolve as the world around you evolves."  
_  
Her last words before she left for Germany went a little something like that. I think I mentioned it earlier. It was something I never understood, and neither did I try to ask her to explain it.  
  
Before I turned thirteen, Crawford mentioned something to us about choosing which of us—Oneesan or I—would go to Germany and be the SZ and Schwarz' out-of-the-country agent. We had to pass an exam. Oneesan and I took the exam, and of course she was the one who passed it. Unlike me, she had always been as smart as a whip—not just book-smart, but life-smart. I was just a regular kid back when we were young; she was the genius of the family.  
  
Our reunion was of course, cut short, when she went to Germany. As it turned out, we were only together for two years—not even two years, for we were short several days. As much as that made me sad, things happened for a reason—Oneesan always says that, and I believe it. And so again, we were separated for four years. And in those four years she wasn't around, a lot of things have happened to me, and these things overshadowed everything she'd taught me those almost two years we were together. As much as I tried to save everything she taught me, I couldn't. No one could've done it. Four years was just too long compared to two years.  
  
Now, it seems like I was back where I started—I was once again that hard-hearted eleven-year old who just came back from the grassy clearing below a bridge near a river outside of Tokyo, even though I was getting on for seventeen.  
  
And looking at my sister, it seems like I didn't know her at all.  
  
_She was like this tall, beautiful stranger who came in and entered my life out of the blue.  
_  
I guess the same goes for her—just as a lot of things have happened to me in a span of four years, a lot of things have happened to her too.  
  
"Why did you call us here, Crawford?" Schrudich finally spoke. He looked over at me. _I'm going to convince Crawford to adjourn this, kid, so you and Sugar can talk._  
  
I glared at him. _Sugar?_  
  
He grinned. _Yeah. Sugar. That's what I call her. Didn't you know?  
_  
_Obviously I didn't.  
_  
"All right, Schrudich. Stop talking to Nagi. You're clouding my senses." Crawford said sternly. "I didn't call you here for any particular reason other than to let you know that our enemies, Weiß has come back to Tokyo, for some reason. They were in Kyoto, but their operative has asked them to come back. And just in time. Our plans are just about ready." He gave a sinister grin.  
  
I frowned. The year before, those Weiß guys had the habit of popping in when they weren't wanted and destroying our plans. They were an annoying bunch, those four. Not that they were any much for me anyway.  
  
Especially that Omi guy who was our former boss, Reiji's son. He's strong, but heck, he's no match for –me-.  
  
Schrudich grinned. "Great. Let's have some fun."  
  
Farfello just laughed.  
  
"I thought those guys were through. Didn't you four kill them?" My sister asked. She gave Schrudich a teasing grin.  
  
"We couldn't kill them. They were too strong for us." I said sarcastically. _ Stop flirting with him, Oneesan._  
  
She looked over at me. _You're finally talking to me? I was beginning to think I couldn't get through to you.  
_  
I looked away. _I was avoiding talking to you, that's all._  
  
She shrugged. _Just take it easy. You looked like you were thinking of some pretty intense stuff there.  
_  
_It was nothing.  
  
If you say so.  
_  
"The building we were fighting in collapsed. It was more of a draw." Crawford answered.  
  
"So can we go?" Schrudich persisted. _Get it together, kid. You look totally bothered.  
_  
I glared at him. _I –am- bothered._  
  
_Why ever are you bothered?_ He said with an innocent grin.  
  
_Because you won't stop flirting and playing footsie with my sister, that's why._ I retorted pointedly.  
  
_Why should I do that? She's not complaining._  
  
_Are you looking for a body throw? I haven't done any telekinetic exercises yet, you know.   
_  
_Okay, okay. I'll stop. Geeze.  
_  
"I'm ending this meeting the moment you and Nagi stop your chitchat and the moment you stop flirting with Futora." Crawford said dully.  
  
"Okay, okay. I'll stop." Schrudich said grudgingly.  
  
As we left the room, Schrudich talked to me again telepathically. _You and Futora should talk, kid. You two have a lot of things to catch up on. Four years is a long time. You two should get to know each other again.  
_  
_Why?  
  
Why? Kid, you're family. As of now, she's the only family you have. Treasure that. Some of us here don't have families, in case you hadn't noticed. You're lucky you have a sister who loves you.  
_  
_But…  
  
Kid, don't think about what happened in the past. That's over and done with. I know you're thinking that you seem like strangers to each other since you were separated four years. Maybe that's true, but you shouldn't dwell on that. Fact is, you're her brother, she's you're sister. Remember that. Cherish that.  
_  
_Okay, I'll talk to her.  
  
She wants to talk to you too. She said she missed you.  
  
_I couldn't help but smile. _I missed her too._  
  
No matter how much I try to say that we both have changed so much we seemed like strangers, that still doesn't change the fact that we are siblings. She's my older sister, and I'm her younger brother.  
  
Schrudich was right. Instead of looking for what's wrong, I guess I should try to see what's right. And for the rare times it happens, Schrudich was right. Oneesan and I, we've got each other. As of right now, she's my only family and I'm her only family.  
  
And I should try to cherish that—what matters now is not how we seem like strangers to each other after four years of separation.  
  
Instead, what matters most now is the fact that we're family—me, and her.  
  
**End notes:**  
  
Everything that happened to Nagi here is somewhat parallel to what happened to her sister. I don't know why I made it that way. It just sort of...came out.  
  
Reviews will be very much appreciated.  



	5. Chapter 5 Her Again

**A Few Good Men  
**  
A/N: Starting from this chapter, this whole story will be told in several POVs...so as to ease confusion, I've labeled each change in POV, sans this first part. The symbol *~*~*~*~*~* still means a change in scene, not necessarily a change in POV.  
A/N2: "Monster" in the context here is a metaphor for a person who acted like the aforementioned.  
  
  
_ **Chapter 5--Her Again**_  


_The whistle of the train outside awakened her. She got up, only then noticing that she was alone in the apartment._

_Josef had left without saying goodbye._

_She stood up and shrugged her shoulders. "Oh, well..." she muttered to herself. She went to the bathroom and got herself bathed and dressed. After sometime, she went outside. It was a Sunday. She decided to walk around the block for a bit before she commences what she usually does during Sundays in Berlin, Germany. She walked out of the apartment building and walked around the street until she reached a bench. She sat down, savoring the silence that enveloped the whole city._

_Silence which didn't last very long._

_All of a sudden, there was a noise. She looked around at the people passing by, rushing towards one direction...to where the noise had come from, she presumed. But where...?_

_And then, there it was again--that noise. Now she was able to make it out more clearly. Where was it coming from? It sounded like the terrified shriek of a woman. She stood up from the bench and followed the crowd rushing by to see what was causing the noise, what was causing people to shriek like that._

_And then, she was there, at the source of the noise. It was the back alley of a hardware store. There was a sizable crowd when she got there, preventing her from seeing what the commotion was all about._

_Which was probably better. Or worse, depending on how one looks at it._

_As it turned out, she didn't need to see anything, for her ears told her all that she needed to know. The whispers...murmurs of the people around her told her everything...more than she even wanted to know..._

_"Who could have done such a thing...?"_

_"Poor man...whoever he is..."_

_"Sk...skinned alive...then murdered...how...terrifying..."_

_"He seems so young...too young...to have died like that..."_

_She felt a sense of dread all around her. A sickening pit had suddenly hovered over her stomach, and threatened to come out. She closed her eyes and forced herself to block out everything that was going on around her, too afraid to find out who the victim of this...this crime was. This utterly heinous crime of being skinned alive before being murdered...there was only one who existed in this world who was capable of such a crime, and she knew who the monster was._

_This monster was capable of anything, and would do anything to get what it wanted. And as of late, this monster had been denied of one target...one target it wanted so much to kill. One target which would have satisfied all of its cravings._

_That target was her._

_Last night, she would have been the victim of this monster...if it wasn't for HIM._

_HE had saved her from this monster...but...at what price?_

_HIS own life?_

_HIS life for HERS? No, no, that can't be it, she thought to herself as she began to walk away from the crowd. This was so very familiar to her, and she couldn't believe--no, she didn't want to believe that it had happened...because she knew---she knew--deep in her heart, who the victim was._

_But she couldn't believe that...because that would mean he had sold his life for hers, and she couldn't accept that. He couldn't have. He...couldn't..._

_It was one of those times when nature seemed cruel. Despite her extreme desire to block out the world around her just for a little while, every part of her stayed fully conscious of everything that was going on._

_And everything shattered upon her._

_"Wait...here...an identification! Josef Van der Bilt...aged 25...a policeman--that's what it says here..."_

_"Who could have done this to him?"_

_"Does anyone here know him? Did he have enemies? He could have, being a policeman and all..."_

_"Why would they do this to him?"_

_She opened her eyes, only then realizing that she had had them closed the whole time, and swung her eyes away from Josef's dead corpse. Just like she had promised to herself, years ago: "no dead bodies, no corpses in front of my eyes...ever."_

_"Why would anyone do this...to anyone?" Those murmurs would never stop._

_"Why?"_

_"Why, why, why...?"_

_"Anything is possible, in this world." She found herself saying, out loud._

_Everyone turned to look at her. Some gazed at her with contempt. Some, with wonder. Some stared at her with pity. Some just stared blankly. _

_Some wondered if she was actually crazy. And at that particular moment, maybe she -DID- go crazy._

_Still, the murmurs continued._

_At that moment, she realized that she couldn't take it anymore. She ran. She ran and ran, away from the city, from everyone. She couldn't be here anymore. "I don't belong here..." she choked out._

_She then found herself staring at a grassy clearing. She ahd teleported right in the middle of a grassy clearing, with trees and flowers all around it. But not even a place like this could wipe away the pain she felt._

_Only yesterday, she was with him...in the encounter with the monster, she was unfortunately wounded very badly and would have died if it wasn't for HIM. HE was the one who had tended to her wounds. HE was the one who had stayed and comforted her all through the night. He had spoken to her in the softest of voices and had held her close until she had fallen asleep._

_And...something more. He had given her something more than care and attention...something she had refused to accept, but he had given all the same._

_Something which had cost him his life._

_She was the one who had seen him last...and at that time--he was alive...so very alive._

_But now he was dead._

_He had died for her, she knew that much. Thinking that the monster would leave her alone if he gave his life to it in place of hers, he offered himself. He hadn't known what the monster was capable of, but he should have known--he should have realized that it was smart, ruthless, and bloodthirsty. That it would never stop until it got what it wanted._

_HER._

_His sacrifice would be for naught, she realized bitterly. He should have known._

_But it was no use talking or thinking like this, because he was dead._

_He was dead, and she couldn't look at his dead body. She just couldn't._

_She couldn't even cry for him. No tears, none whatsoever--because her eyes...had forgotten how it was to cry, long ago._

_-She- had forgotten how it was to cry...and all the more painful it was._

_She closed her eyes. She couldn't even let out all the emotions she felt deep inside her--the anger, the HATE...the PAIN...all of them were clamoring to burst forth out in the open...but she couldn't...she couldn't let them out...if she had known how to cry, she could have. If she could scream, she would have, but she didn't have the strength._

_But her feelings...her emotions...needed to be let out...if only...she could...there has to be...a way..._

_And then she shattered. The wind around her got stronger. And stronger and stronger. The clouds darkened like they had never darkened before. It was a sure sign of rain. Extreme rain--or a storm._

_An extreme storm--a thunderstorm._

_And the rain fell._

  


**~*Futora*~**

  
I opened my eyes and felt the wetness all around me. The wetness of...rain? I was soaking all over, making it seem like I had been out in the pouring rain for the past couple of hours. Or maybe it was a...thunderstorm?

And all because of that dream. That dream again. Ever since I came home, here to Tokyo, I've been having the same dreams every single night. Or maybe it was a nightmare--I don't know for sure.

It was funny though, because everything that happened in that nightmare--all of it--they really happened to me.

Yes, they all happened. Two years ago, that is. Everything in that nightmare had been real--the places, the people, Josef...and that storm. All of them had been real.

_I...guess that makes it more...SAD than funny..._

I gave a little sigh as I sat up on my bed. I looked around my room, wondering silently of how things may change, but this room remained as it was when I left it, four years ago. _Why is it that those things that happened before...are all coming back to me now that I'm here in Japan?_ I left Germany for many reasons, and one of them was to forget all the nightmare that had happened to me. 

But for some reason, this...occurrence keeps on haunting me...

_Why?_ This dream--nightmare...seems like...it was trying to tell me something...._but what?_

That...I should never try to forget whatever has happened to me?

_But...what if it's just too painful...?_

I heaved another sigh. Then I stood up and went to the windows. I opened the doors to the terrace by my room. I walked out and stared up at the sky. It was still dark, although the purple color of the sky clearly indicated that the sun would be up soon. I sat on the ledge and did what I used to do back when I was young--play with the wind, and float the leaves from the trees in spirals all around me.

And then, I took a deep breath, and started to sing.

_I'll make a wish for you..._

I closed my eyes, wishing that all the questions hovering in my mind would just go away.

_And hope it will come true..._

All those questions...

_That life would just be kind..._

My life...I didn't need them to complicate my life right now. It was complicated enough as it was, with this problem with my brother. My relationship with my brother is something I want to save, because it was all I have. HE was all I have left of my family.

_To such a gentle mind..._

_But the past coming back to haunt me...?_ That's just too much. I can't have that. I can't. _I just can't._

_But Josef...?_ I had forgotten him, long ago. He was a thing of my past--a past that deserves to be forgotten because it had brought me so much pain.

_But love..._Love...? It has nothing to do with it. Love didn't have anything to do with it.

_If you lose your way, think back on yesterday..._

So...why can't I get all of it out of my mind?

_Remember me this way..._

_Remember...?_ I breathed in the dawn air deeply and shook my head. No, I have to forget. I need to forget him and everything that had to do with him. Everything. For myself...and for my own peace of mind...

_Remember me...this way..._

_Why the heck do I keep singing this song? _I thought bitterly.

But I continued to sing. I couldn't stop...

_Stop it. Stop it! Stop.It!_ I shook my head vigorously, hoping to shake the song out of my mind...out of my lips...but...

_I can't._ And it's just reminding me all too much of HIM. _And it hurts..._

_Who's he?_ A voice interrupted my thoughts.

Literally. From the corner of my room, Schrudich stepped out of the shadows.

I gave a sigh. _How long have you been here?_

_Long enough to hear your heart crying out for help._

I frowned. _It wasn't my heart, Schrudich. I just wanted to..._

_Forget? Stop remembering? You've said that at least ten times now..._He gave me a small smile. _Can I ask you something?_

I nodded.

He walked towards me and sat down on the ledge, across from where I was sitting. He looked straight into my eyes, penetrating, probing, the way only he could. _Who's he?_

_Who?_

_You know...Josef?_ He raised an eyebrow, observing me thoughtfully.

I looked away. _Someone I used to know._

_Oh...? Where is he now?_

I shrugged, turning away. I felt him shift and move a little bit closer.

_What happened to him?_

_He...died, a long time ago._

_In...Germany?_ I nodded without looking at him.

A long, awkward silence followed. 

"I'm sorry," Schrudich spoke in that deep, husky voice, usually full of teasing and sarcasm, but now, surprisingly, he sounded sincere. At least, as sincere as he could get. But then again, this was Schrudich...

"I mean it. If he was important to you, then I really am sorry. Not sorry he died, though." I looked at him then. He still had that small smile in his face. "I'm sorry that his death is making you so sad. I don't like seeing you sad."

He was still the same old Schrudich after all, but I nodded gratefully. _Thank you._

_How long has it been?_ Now that I was facing him again, he examined my face thoughtfully.

_Two years._

_You were sixteen when he died, then...?_ I nodded. _But...why would you want to forget him? I mean, if he was your friend..._

_I don't...not really. It's just that...it hurts...when I'm reminded of him, it hurts so much..._

_I'm sorry._ He then noticed me looking at him oddly. _Like I said earlier, you know...for your pain, not for his death. I mean, I could care less if he died, but it's hurting you, and making you sad, and I don't like seeing you in pain, or in sadness..._

I raised an eyebrow. "Do you really mean that?" I asked him softly, out loud.

He nodded. "Of course I do." He said. "Why, do you doubt me?"

I shook my head. "No, no I don't. I mean, not really..."

"Not really?" He sighed. "You know...if ever there were any times in my life when I was sincere, it was when it concerned you..."

"I know..." I said with a sigh. I knew he cared so much for me. And that was what I was afraid of. "It's just that...I really wouldn't know, would I? I was gone for four years, who knows what you have become?"

He shook his head sadly. "Still the same, as always. You are never gonna trust me completely, are you?"

"It isn't that, Schrudich," I countered. "I trust you with my life, you know that. You're my best friend, and you'll always be...but you know...four years is quite long..." I tried explaining.

He sighed. "You know who you remind me of?"

"Who?"

"That brother of yours. Remember the meeting? That's exactly what he was thinking about the two of you." He gave another sigh. "I heard his thoughts. 'Four years is too long a time and I feel like I don't even know her. She's like...this beautiful stranger who came into my life again, out of the blue.' Or something like that."

I pondered with his words silently. My brother and I, we still thought and felt on the same level. Exactly what I was thinking ever since I got back and talked with him again.

_This person...he's not the brother I knew before...he's almost like a...stranger. _And it's sad, really...

"So you did talk to him?" Schrudich pressed.

The way he read my mind without my permission again made me smile a little. "You're never going to change, are you, Schrudich...? You still love to read my mind without permission." I gave a little laugh.

Suddenly, he was looking at me oddly. "What is it?" I asked.

He shook his head. "Well...it's just that...your smile, and your laugh...they're the same as before...when I first met you...Futora, what's wrong?"

I looked away. Obviously, my pain was showing so much on my face, and on my smile, and my laugh...

"No. It's not that. I just know you too well. People who don't know you will never notice, but I know you, Futora." There he goes again, reading my mind... 

"Schrudich, it's nothing." I insisted. "Anyway, Nagi and I did talk. Right after the meeting. But..." I lowered my eyes. "It's just as you know, Schrudich...it's like we don't know each other anymore. It's different from before, when Brad first brought him here. At that time, I felt like only the day before, I had seen him, and talked with him. But now..." my voice trailed off. It really hurt, the fact that he's my brother, and we can't even talk the way we used to. _It's like...I've lost my brother...again._

"He feels the same way." Schrudich said quietly.

"How do you know?" I asked softly. I gazed at the clock. It was almost six in the morning.

"I know. Over the time you've been away, I've gotten to know him quite well. As well as he would allow, anyway," he gave a smirk. "He thinks about you a lot. And I know he feels the way you do. Sugar," he tipped my chin up and leveled my face with his. "There's no need for you to go back to that sadness where I found you when we first met. You haven't lost your brother. He's just lost, and confused. And so are you."

I smiled at him, the best smile I could muster. "You know us so well, why is that?"

Then his eyes met mine and he gazed at me for long moments. His face then broke into a grin. "Because...I'm a telepath, or have you forgotten?" He pinched my cheek playfully.

The action made me smile again, but I heard him sigh with resignation. "Futora, sugar, would it be too much to ask you to just try a little to smile your happy smile? You know..."

"...it breaks your heart to see me smile my smile that doesn't reach my eyes? I know. And I'll try, Schrudich, I really will." I promised.

He stood up from the ledge and kissed me on the cheek before he walked out.

I sighed. I wish I could do what he wanted, be happy as he wanted me to be. But with the way things are going, I doubt I'll ever be happy.

I remember his last words to me, right before I left for Germany.

_"I want to remember you beautiful and happy, not beautiful and sad."_

I sighed again. _Schrudich, I really wish I could be. I really wish, but..._

The sun was just about to rise over the horizon, and I gazed at it, thinking.

_We can't always get what we wish for._

I knew that only too well. A lot of times, I have wished that everyone whom I have loved and lost would come back. But they never did. A lot of times, I have wished that I would find happiness again. And a lot of times, I have wished that I would find love.

But I never have. Maybe I never will, because I know for a fact that sooner or later, everyone I love would leave me. It's the way it has been for me, and that's the way it will always be.

I raised my eyes to the sun, now beginning to rise. The rising of the sun symbolized a new morning--a new hope for the world, and for people. A new hope that they would find happiness today, even if they didn't find it yesterday. A new hope for life...and a new hope for love.

_But not for me._ Some people are just meant to be sad. I am one of those people.

*~*~*~*~*~*

  
  
I walked along the pathway in a brisk speed. I had decided to take a walk, to clear my mind off of worries so that I could focus on the work that I had cut out for me. Briefly, I wondered where I would end up this time._ The place where I ended up last time...?_

I smiled to myself._ Maybe._ For some reason, -he- came into my mind. That...young man. He was about my age. He had light blue eyes, dark blonde hair, and a very cheerful face. He made you want to smile, even if you were sad.

Maybe...he can ease my sadness a little, if that was possible.

I shrugged. The idea was pretty far-fetched. _A young man...?_ No matter how cheerful or good-looking he may be, this sadness will never leave me. It was almost like it was part of me, like a...curse, or something...

I glanced at my watch. Seven-thirty. I had two hours before the time Brad had asked me to come back. He needed to speak with me, he had said, but he didn't give any sign or inclination of what it was going to be about.

But I knew. I came back for a purpose. I was here for a purpose, as I always was. The instant I stepped out of the plane and set foot in Japan again after four long years, I knew.

Right before I left for Germany, Brad had told me what he was. What Schrudich, and Farfello, and Nagi were. What...or rather, -who- they were. And that I was a part of that. I was one of them.

I was a member of Schwarz, which was why Brad had asked me to come to the meeting that day, though I seriously doubt that anything particularly important got talked about, for all we really did was wait for an hour to pass by, and then Brad ended it. Maybe somehow or other whatever it was that was needed to be accomplished, was accomplished with me there, though I couldn't know that for sure.

Later on, I asked Brad about it, and he told me something I didn't expect. When I was sent to Germany, I was there partly to continue studying, and partly so that I can accomplish a mission that the SZ couldn't handle. Some unfinished business, they had said. Something that would make up for the death of my parents, I was told. I believed them. I couldn't do otherwise.

My job had been to monitor the everyday activities of a particular group of people and report all of them to the SZ. I had to do that without getting caught, which was easy enough to do with telekinesis and since I was posing as a student--the truth, though only half of it.

Other than that, I was also tasked to eliminate anyone who interfered with my--and SZ's--operation. In simple terms, I had to kill anyone who got in my way.

Anyone.

And now...here I was. Brad had told me then that I was one of Schwarz, but I didn't know what that entailed. As soon as I came back from Germany, he had told me what they do, and what I was gonna be doing. He didn't exactly give specifics--I was gonna find that out later during our talk--but from what I understand, it wasn't very different from what I used to do back when I was in Germany, nor was it the same. It was actually both--different and the same--from what I used to do. I'm not quite sure what to make of that, but I intend to make the best of it.

I sighed, once again._ Even though I know that I'm doomed to be sad forever, at least...I still have hope for other things. That's...something, I guess._

I still wonder, though, I thought as I continued walking, increasing my pace, what would have happened had I not gone to Germany? Would everything be the same as it was now? _Maybe...maybe it would be different._ For one thing, Nagi and I would have probably been closer, and I'd probably be happier, though I doubt that.

_But everything happens for a reason, right...?_ I was meant to go to Germany. Nagi and I were meant to be separated for a time. And we're both confused--there's a reason for that as well.

_But what could it be...?_

I shook my head. There's no point in thinking about that now. I don't have the answers...at least, not yet. But I will find out soon..._I hope._

_And Makoto...?_ I wonder if I'll ever find him. I smiled to myself. If I can't have hope about anything else, at least I still have hope for that. 

I looked up at the sky, at the sun shining brightly. Then I walked, slowly this time. _I'll find him...soon. I will._

_What about...Josef?_ Now why did he suddenly enter my thoughts? _What about him...? He's dead. No one can bring the dead back. And even if he was still alive, I'd...I'd rather never see him again, if he would only die on me all over again. _That's the way it is with people I love--eventually, they die.

I stopped walking for a moment. _Alright, alright, I admit it. Once in my life, I love--loved--him. And then what happened? He died. DIED. And I couldn't even cry for him!_ That's what hurts the most, and at that time, I vowed to myself that I would never love again.

I would never, ever, ever, EVER love again. I started walking again, faster this time.

_Never, ever._ I continued to walk faster...

BEEP! BEEP! 

_That sounds like...the blearing of a loud car horn coming from..._I stopped dead in my tracks.

_Behind me...?_ I froze. And then--

"LOOK OUT!!!" A male voice shouted.  
  


**~*Omi*~**

  
  
All of my actions from the time I heard the car's loud beep was a blur. The only thing I remember was, a minute ago, I was standing at the front of our shop, and the next minute, I was running as I pulled a young woman standing in the middle of the street towards the other side of the road across our shop. And then, I became conscious that I was lying with my back on the pavement of the sidewalk with the young woman whose life I just saved on top of me.

I quickly glanced back to where our shop was, across the street. The sprinkler I had been holding was on the ground, and it was completely out of water. Where was the water...?_ Spilled along the front of the shop...?_ I remember now. I dropped the sprinkler from my hand the minute I heard the car's loud beep.

And now...I was still lying on the pavement. The person I just rescued was still on top of me. She was looking at me too. And I was looking back. And I could see that the expression written in her eyes mirrored my own.

Frozen.

We were both frozen.

Frozen in the midst of what? I don't know. But wait a minute...

_Dark blue eyes..._

Her!

I snapped back into focus. I shook my head and struggled to stand up. But she was still frozen. "Um...excuse me...?" I gently slapped her cheek to bring her back.

"What...? What happened...?" She looked down at me, then around her, her eyes showing an expression of bewilderment. She then gazed at herself, and finally...

"OH! I'm sorry! I'm really sorry!" Lightning-fast, she stood up.

Or at least, that's how it seemed to me. She seemed to have exemplary agility. Either that, I thought, or the fact that she was lying on top of a complete stranger on the sidewalk contributed to her quick movements.

She then held out her hand to me, helping me stand up. Now she was looking at me with questioning in her eyes. "I really am sorry, but I'd like to know what happened." She gazed at me intently.

"What happened?" I echoed. I tried to remember the previous events before my mind suddenly froze. _You just saved her from an untimely death, Tsukiyono Omi. That's what happened._ "I just saved you from an untimely death, that's what happened," I said dully, echoing my thoughts.

"WHAT?" She sounded incredulous.

I sighed. "You were standing in the middle of the street," I explained. "Right there--" I pointed to the center of the street across from where we were, "--when this car came speeding up. Forgiving me for siding with the car driver, but it's not everyday people just stand frozen in the middle of the street." I added.

"WHAT?" She said again.

I sighed again. "I said--"

"Not that," she shook her head. "I was just asking, what was I doing--" she stopped midsentence, then shook her head again. "Nevermind. I'm sorry. I was about to ask you what I was doing in the middle of the street, when I should know. I was the one standing in the middle of the street. Me asking that would have been pretty stupid." She gave me a small smile. "You obviously saved my life, and I should be thanking you, not shouting at you. Thank you, and I'm really sorry."

I waved my hand. "You're welcome, and it's fine. Are you alright?" I examined her closely. "You didn't get scratched or anything, did you?"

She shook her head. "I don't think so."

"We don't know that for sure. Follow me," I walked across the street, careful to look left and right to avoid another untimely death--this time, for both of us. I entered the shop.

"I've been here before..." She murmured, more to herself than to me, I guess.

But I answered anyway. "Yeah, I've seen you." I motioned for her to sit on the chair near the register.

She sat down and looked up at me. "I told you I'm not hurt." She raised her arms. "See? I don't have any scratches or cuts at all. You, on the other hand, do."

I shook my head. "No, I don't. I don't have any--" she placed a mirror in front of my face.

"Yes. Yes, you do," she insisted. "See that?" I looked at myself in the mirror. And I saw...

A cut on my face. My left cheek, to be exact. "It's not deep," she murmured. "All it needs is a little..." She raised her right hand to my face. I pushed her away gently. I was feeling pain, but I wasn't about to let her know that. I just saved her life, for crying out loud!

"I don't need any..."

"Don't push me away," she said firmly. "I know that cut hurts. And don't you try to tell me it doesn't," she warned. "It just needs a little..." softly, she ran her fingers over the cut on my left cheek...and gradually the pain receded. When I looked back at my face in the mirror to examine the cut, I saw...

I didn't see any cut. It was as if it wasn't even there in the first place. "How did you do that?" I asked with disbelief.

An innocent smile. "Do what?" She looked at me. "Now, does it hurt anywhere else? And be honest, alright? You just saved my life and I'm not about to continue seeing you in pain on my account." She examined me closely.

I shook my head. "I'm fine, really." I told her reassuringly.

She raised an eyebrow. "I hope so."

From the corner of my eye, I saw three heads peeking out from the downstairs basement. So that was where the three of them went. I was wondering why the shop was empty when I came in. I saw Yohji-kun mouthing something I couldn't quite make out. I sighed. He's probably asking me to execute another pickup line of some sort to this girl. I ignored him and turned my attention back to her.

She had bent down and was studying a row of purple irises by the chair. "Iris..." She was saying to herself.

"You like them?" I asked.

She looked up and nodded. "Yes. I like blue and purple flowers." She turned back to stroke the petals.

"The other day, you bought forget-me-nots and lilies." I murmured as I examined her profile. There's something really mysteriously familiar about her...I've felt it ever since the first time I saw her. I just couldn't pinpoint what it is. _Who is this girl...?_

She stood up and gazed at me. Now we were looking eye to eye, blue eyes to blue eyes. "You remember?"

I nodded.

She sighed. "I bought the lilies for my mother. They were her favorite flowers."

"Were..?" I asked.

She smiled, the same small smile she had given me earlier, I thought. "Uh-hm." She narrowed her eyes at me, as if she was asking herself something in her mind.

"What?"

She shook her head. "Nothing. I was thinking that...the first time I saw you, it's as if...well...I knew you, somehow. Though I know we've never met." She continued to look back at me, examining me as closely as I was examining her at that moment.

"Same here." I looked at the flowers. "How can that be?"

"I don't know." She said quietly. "Can I buy these?" She pointed to the irises. "A dozen would do just fine."

"Huh? Oh, sure." I bundled up a dozen of the purple irises and gave them to her. She handed me the money.

"Thank you." We said at the same time.

"You're welcome." we said again at the same time. She looked at me and I looked at her.

We both laughed. Though her laugh kinda sounded...sad.

"I have to get going now." She told me. "Here." She handed me the bunch of flowers.

"Huh? You just bought these..." I stared blankly at the bunch of flowers in my hand.

She smiled. "It's my way of saying thank you. Although, it's not enough, considering you just saved my life. But it will do for now." She headed out the door. "Thanks again!"

"You're welcome!" I called. Then, as an afterthought, I added, "I hope to see you again."

She looked back and gave me another smile. "Same here!" Within moments, she was gone.

_Come to think of it,_ I thought as I looked around for a place to put down the bunch of flowers in my arms, _just like her laugh, when she smiled, she also looked sad..._

The sound of a throat being cleared interrupted my thoughts. I looked behind me...

...and found Ken-kun grinning at me, Yohji-kun looking at me as if he wanted to strangle me, and Aya-kun gazing at me curiously to see what I would do.

"That was cozy," Ken-kun commented, looking at me, and then at the flowers in my hands.

I felt the heat crawling up my face._ I forgot._ The door to the basement was open, I knew it was, and they were there, watching me, watching her--watching the two of us THE WHOLE TIME, which explains why Ken-kun was teasing me, why Aya-kun was looking at me curiously...and why Yohji-kun looked like he wanted to murder me.

I sighed, then I sat down beside the cash register and braced myself for another lecture on picking up women. "What?"

"How long were you two talking, exactly?" Yohji-kun asked calmly, but I could tell he was trying to restrain himself. _ Here we go again,_ I thought.

I gazed at the clock. "About half an hour or so, I'd say," I answered matter-of-factly. "Why?" And is it any of your business, I wanted to add. But I didn't, as that would only fuel the fire he was in.

"You were TALKING to her for HALF AN HOUR and you never even thought to ASK HER NAME!" He shouted that last part.

_Okay, I knew that was coming. _I expected that. Why the heck was that so important to him, anyway?

"I don't need to ask what her name is," I told him reverently. "It isn't that important."

Yohji-kun's eyes widened. "Isn't -THAT- important?" He uttered incredulously. "Omi, do you know what you're saying?"

_Yes, darn it, of course I knew!_ "Yohji-kun, for goodness' sake..." I continued dully, ignoring my thoughts. "Look, I know you somehow feel like..."

"No, you DON'T know." Yohji-kun exhaled, out of irritation or exasperation or something in between, I don't know for sure. "That might have been the only chance remaining for you to introduce yourself, and you threw it away, just like that!" He practically shouted out his last statement. 

I rolled my eyes. This was too much. _What did he want me to do? _"You know, not everything deserves to be done YOUR way." I muttered.

"What was THAT?"

I exhaled impatiently. I rarely ever get impatient. But darn it, this was really too much. "I SAID," I could feel my voice rising as I continued, "I am NOT you, I never will BE you, and I don't see the point of ME having to go out on a limb just so I can do something which, for CRYING OUT LOUD, will distinctly mimic something you've always done with all the girls you've gotten to know of for most of your LIFE!" I finally shouted out the last word.

For about a minute or so, Yohji-kun looked confused. So, for that matter, did Ken-kun, who all the while, I forgot to note, had been listening distinctly to mine and Yohji-kun's verbal tirade and had not interrupted even for a second. Frankly, I could have used some of his support from the onset of our argument, but from the blank look on his face, I couldn't envision that happening anytime soon.

I sighed. Obviously, I was getting too angry for my own good. And I know that, when I became that way, I had the tendency to color my phrases with embellishments, just as I did a moment ago. And I know that most of the time, if not all the time, my embellishments were something only people with, shall we say, a level of intelligence more or less equivalent to mine, had the ability to understand. Not to be conceited or anything, but this is me just stating facts. 

Another thing to be noted is that although Yohji-kun and Ken-kun most of the time do not get my meaning when I speak this way, someone else (other than me) is usually there to get my message across to them.

No, I'm not talking about Manx or Birman. They're never around usually when we argue. I'm talking about Aya-kun. He always seems to understand whatever I'm saying, and always seems to be able to translate my sentences in simple words everytime I can't. Which was usually all the times I got angry.

From behind where I stood, I heard a sigh identical to my own just a minute ago, which interrupted my thoughts. Aya-kun. "What Omi means, Yohji," he went on in a clipped tone, "is that he doesn't have to follow everything you say. He can't do things your way all the time. He's NOT you." He finished dryly. He omitted my last statement, which was just as well...

Yohji-kun raised an eyebrow. "REALLY," he said sardonically. "You're sure THAT's the only thing he said? Somehow, I distinctly remember hearing something about, 'all the girls I've gotten to know for most of my life'" he glanced my way, expecting an explanation. God darn it for his excellent hearing and more than exceptional memory for detail, comprehension of them notwithstanding. "Well?"

"That last part was true, Yohji," Ken-kun spoke up. Finally. I gave him a grateful look. 

"Oh is THAT SO, pretty boy?" Yohji-kun said menacingly, turning towards Ken-kun. "And care to repeat which part you ACTUALLY understood?"

"That last part about your women," Ken-kun answered dully. "Omi was stating fact. I don't think he was trying to insult you or whatever you might think."

No, I wasn't trying to insult him. Not now, anyway. But when I said those words, by heck, I was.

But this had gone far enough. _Why was it such a big deal with him, anyway?_ I mean, it's not like I lost half my life when I didn't ask her name and I didn't give her mine. At that time, seeing her to safety had been my primary motive. It had been my -ONLY- motive. 

It was funny though. Just before I saw her, just before she got almost hit by a car in the middle of the street, just before I got her to safety, I was actually thinking about my latest dream. All of a sudden, my thoughts had turned to her. I wondered who she was, and, for...I don't know, probably the millionth time since I first saw her, I wondered why the heck I always thought of her next everytime I think about my dreams. It's as if she was connected to them somehow. But she's never been in any of my previous dreams.

And then, I start to wonder if I will ever see her again, and at that moment, as if the heavens heard and my wish was suddenly granted, there she was--right in the middle of the street--about to be hit by a car--and about to be saved--by me.

_Strange._

And this was the second time it happened since I met her, too. Not the almost accident, but me, wondering if I was ever going to see her again, and her, appearing right before my very eyes, as if to grant my wish.

_Strange, but true._

If it happened twice, then...maybe it's possible that it could happen again. Which was why, this time, I didn't mind that I wasn't able to ask her name and introduce myself to her. I knew I was gonna see her again soon. All I had to do was wish for it.

"Yohji-kun," I began. There was no need for this...fight to go on any longer than it already had, and if I had to be the one to initiate the apology, then so be it.

"WHAT?" 

"There is NO need for you to shout," I told him sternly. "Look, I'm sorry if I did say something that offended you awhile ago. I was just angry. Alright?"

Yohji-kun simmered down a little. "Alright. But you know kid, I still think you should have--"

"NOT that it's any of your business," I interrupted, "but whatever you think I should have done, it doesn't matter to me. But for what it's worth to you," I continued, "most people, had they been in my situation at that time, would never have considered picking that girl up as their primary motive when she was ALMOST hit by a car." I paused. "Saving her would have been the primary concern, as it was mine."

He nodded. He got what I said. _Good._ But then, suddenly, he was glaring at me again. "So you saved her life, and I saw that. And I get that. Damsel in distress, Prince Charming had rescued her. But what I DON'T UNDERSTAND..."

I rolled my eyes as I heard the rise in his voice again. "What?"

"WHY didn't you INTRODUCE yourself AFTERWARD? That would have been the perfect opportunity and you BLEW it!" He demanded.

This time, three of us exhaled impatiently. I don't know what the heck is it with Yohji-kun and picking up girls. It's probably an obsession, like me and computers, Ken-kun and soccer, and Aya-kun and his poetry. Or his earring. "Give it a rest, Yohji." Ken-kun said with irritation.

Yohji-kun ignored him. "I'm waiting," he looked at me expectantly.

"Shut the FUCK up, Yohji," Aya-kun muttered loud enough for all of us to hear.

Yohji-kun ignored him as well. He continued to look at me expectantly, obviously still awaiting my answer.

I sighed. He wasn't gonna give this a rest until I give an answer. " I'm sure I'll have plenty of opportunities to do that." 

"WHEN? For all you know, she might not ever come back, and you've lost your chance with her!"

"For ALL I know, I might see her again, and again and again, so I'll have plenty of chances with her," I countered.

"How do you know that?"

"I DON'T KNOW!" I said impatiently. " Look, don't ask me to explain, but I KNOW I'll see her again soon. I know it." _All I have to do is wish for it,_ I thought, for the second time that day.

"WISH for IT? What is she, a GENIE?" He had that incredulous look again.

I rolled my eyes again._ Darn it._ I've said it out loud. "Never mind that, ok? Just trust me." 

Yohji-kun looked at me as if he didn't believe me. Ken-kun raised an eyebrow questioningly, and I knew we were gonna have a talk about this later. Aya-kun pretty much left me alone. He's like that--pretends he doesn't care, but I knew he was just as curious as the other two. 

Which was why, I thought to myself as I sighed again for the umpteenth time that day, I will have to explain what I just said to all of them soon.

_But first,_ I mused silently as I counted up the money in the cash register, _I would have to test my theory._

I'm a pretty rational, scientific person, but for the past couple of years, strange things have been known to happen around me. 

Paranormal things--I knew they existed. I've been exposed to some types of it, been hurt a lot by the others. 

Telekinetics. I've seen one, and I've fought with one. I've never managed to win against him, but somehow, I've never lost, either. I can't say I hated him, yet...I've never liked him either.

Telepaths. I've seen one, and I've been a victim of his one time too many--both directly and indirectly. And I didn't like it, all those times. I've never liked it. HAving someone--a stranger, no less, read your heart, your mind, your soul--without your permission--feels like something much worse than a crime has been comitted to you. Much worse.

Oracles. In the old days, in the time of the Greek Gods, that's what they were called. Right now, they're Diviners. Seers. Fortune tellers. Some of them are mere fakes, seeking money, trying to earn a living--harmless beings. Rarely does this world ever chance upon a real Oracle. I had once--and I didn't like him one bit. He used his gift to take advantage of people--used it to control others, to gain power over others. And to kill other people.

Antipaths. When I was young, I've read only of such beings, never even thought they actually existed, until I met one. Witnessed him torture other people. Been his victim, both directly and indirectly. Witnessed him laugh as he tortured others. Witnessed him laugh as people died before his very eyes, because of pains he had inflicted. Of the four, he's probably the worst. He feels no pain, physically and psychologically--and he uses that to his advantage, to inflict pain over other people. Perhaps...he was trying to feel his own pain through them? I'll never know. I don't think I ever want to know.

The four of them were paranormal beings. Extra-sensory perception, that's what they possessed. Before I met them, I never knew such people as them actually existed. But they were real. 

If people like them were real, then anything was possible.

Including my theory.

Wishing someone to life? I knew there was no such thing. I didn't wish her to life. Not really. I met her before I started wishing for her to appear...and twice, she had appeared, right after I started wishing that I hope I'll see her again...

_Maybe she really -WAS- a genie._

I snorted. Now -THAT- was way out of this world. Telekinetics, telepaths, oracles, antipaths--them, and their existence, I can handle. But GENIES? I mean, really.

One thing's for sure though--my theory. It has to have come from somewhere...that is why I need to test it. It might have been just a mere coincidence, but if it happens for the third time in a row, then it's gotta have an origin point somewhere. A source, somewhere.

MY HEART? Not likely...but...alright. It's possible, I suppose. But before I make the deductions, I have to see her again, in the way I've seen her these last two times, to prove my theory. Or disprove it, whichever the case may be.

_WHY ARE YOU SO SURE YOU'LL SEE HER AGAIN?_ A voice inside me asked.

_I...don't know. I just...am, I guess._

A gut feeling? Instinct? Could be.

_YOU SOUND SO SURE OF YOURSELF._

_That's because I am._

_I'll see her again, I'm sure of it._

**End Notes:**

I'm sorry, I don't know what the heck I could call the type of person Farfello is. I couldn't quite think it up, so I called him an antipath. I don't even know if such a word exists. But seeing as I called Crawford an oracle, Schrudich--a telepath, and Nagi--telekinetic, naturally I had to call him something. *sweatdrop* Something that sounds...good, at the very least. I couldn't very well call him "insane," now, could I?

So anyway, if anyone knows what kind of um...ESP possessor he is (if he -is- one, that is), please let me know. Review or email me. Thanks.=)

This is only half of what was originally supposed to be chapter 5, but due to the length, I had to cut it short, so I'm really sorry if nothing much happened here. Chapter 6 will be the last chapter for part 1 of this series, and it will pick up where this leaves off. It will still be told in 3 POV's, like this one (Futora, Omi, and 3rd person). Chapter 6 will be up hopefully by next week. 

Reviews will be very much appreciated.


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